Closer
by Sister Magpie
Summary: Cora Shepard is facing a lot of unknowns: Collectors, Cerberus, coming back from the dead, and Miranda. Set during the beginning of the ME2 timeline.
1. Twenty Questions

A/N: Well, here we go! For those of you who have read the things I write before, welcome back! This is the same Cora Shepard you know and love, just set during a slightly alternate timeline. I wanted to explore what Cora and Miranda are capable of, so it's off-canon from my main fic. If you haven't read my stuff before, hello! Reading Forever and Ever, Amen is certainly not a prerequisite to reading this, but feel free to take a look if you like :)

Thank you to A.E. McDuff and Kallie6891 for beta reading chapter 1 and 2 for me!

* * *

Commander Shepard sits at the table in the mess hall, watching a visibly stressed out Miranda walk from the direction of the elevator to her quarters. She has one hand on her forehead, while the other was clutching a data pad. She paused mid-way, lowering the data pad for a moment and closing her eyes. Shepard feels a bit bad for watching her so covertly, as it was clear Miranda didn't know she was sitting here. _In my defence, I'm in the mess hall in the middle of the day. It's not like I'm hiding._

Shepard still didn't know what to make of the Cerberus operative. She didn't know what to make of her life in general if she were honest with herself. She'd only 'woken up' three weeks ago, and it was already clear to her that a million things had changed in her absence. Anderson was close to his usual self, if not a bit more guarded with her. Joker had changed, though the only major difference was that he couldn't look her directly in the eye for more than ten seconds before he had to look away, guilt permeating his face. Garrus had been a welcome addition to this alien – yet familiar – ship. He was sarcastic and humble as ever, however he was more bitter, jaded, and heart sore. And then there was the damned AI. Shepard was convinced that every single waking moment was being recorded and sent immediately to the Illusive Man. Or Miranda. She isn't sure which, but Shepard was sure that she didn't trust the AI, and still has reservations about the ice queen that is Miranda Lawson.

With a sip of her coffee, she continued to watch Miranda. She had resumed reading the information on the data pad, and Shepard even heard her swear under her breath. She tilted her head to the side to consider the woman she was watching. While she was unsure, she did feel a certain level of respect for her. Miranda had rebuilt her from scratch, gently piecing her body back together all while losing sleep, dealing with immense pressure, and having two years of her life disappear just to bring Shepard back. Shepard grimaced at the thought of Miranda being one of the few people in the galaxy that knew what she looked like naked. She wasn't sure how to feel about that, but Miranda had been nothing but professional with her. She was cold and calculating, but there was something else to her that intrigued Shepard. She was undoubtedly beautiful, with her hair only a few shades darker than Shepard's own. Her eyes were the colour of a cold ocean, a remarkable blue that hid something in their depths. Looks aside, she was efficient, logical, and smart. A hell of a lot smarter than anyone Shepard had met before. The more Shepard thought of her though, the more she began to realize that she had no idea what makes Miranda who she is. With a frown, she made a mental note to ask her when she has the chance.

Miranda shuts off the data pad, and stood close to the door of her quarters. She looked as though she was trying to make up her mind about something. She apparently does, and Shepard watched her turn towards the mess hall. There was a brief look of surprise on Miranda's face when she noticed Shepard sitting at the table.

"Commander. I didn't see you there."

"I can be stealthy when I need to be." Shepard responds before taking a sip of her coffee. "What's going on?"

Miranda looked uneasy at the question; she was usually very forthcoming with information pertaining to their missions. Shepard realized it is probably a personal matter, and starts backtracking.

"Shit, sorry Lawson. Don't answer that. I just assumed you were always working because, well, you're always working. I didn't think you did anything outside of that."

"I do have a personal life, Commander." Miranda replied, and Shepard almost smiled with how pissed off the comment seems to make her. _Somehow I doubt that._

"Alright, don't get your knickers in a knot. I was only making a joke. Why don't you sit down and have a coffee; it's my own personal stuff from Brazil." Shepard offered, gesturing towards the steaming pot in front of her. Miranda contemplated the offer, looking from Shepard to the coffee. Eventually, she made up her mind. Grabbing a clean coffee mug from the counter, she joined Shepard at the table.

Shepard smiled slightly, pouring the hot liquid into Miranda's cup, topping her own off in the process. "Want me to grab you cream or sugar?"

"No, thank you. I prefer it black. Besides, this smells too wonderful to ruin by adding anything." Miranda punctuated her comment with a contented sigh as she wraped her delicate hands around the ceramic. Shepard watched the moment with interest. _She was so guarded a second ago, and now she was happily sighing?_

 _Women_.

"So, how are you settling in?" Shepard asked, enjoying the smell of her coffee as it wafted upwards.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question, Commander?" Miranda asked with a furrow of her brow.

"Yeah, I guess, but we all moved in together Lawson. It's not like you've been working on the Normandy for two years."

"I suppose you're right. And I imagine it's been easier for you anyways, considering the SR-2 is so similar to the SR-1."

"Kind of. It's bigger. The CIC is more streamlined, engineering is an engineers dream, and the observation lounges are nice." Shepard provided, watching Miranda's blue gaze study her as she spoke. She looks down at her coffee, the eye contact making her feel… something. _That's… confusing. What the hell, Shep?_

"Do you miss it?"

"The SR-1? Sure. It was my home. I had a small family aboard that ship, and the SR-1 is where it started for all of us. It was a brilliant feat of engineering, but it was also more than a ship." Shepard could feel her emotions surfacing as a result of speaking about it. Joker had beamed at the sight of the new Normandy, all shiny metal and fancy hardware, but Shepard had been almost indifferent. It looked like home, but it wouldn't be the same. It was a ruse, a way to make her more comfortable, and a way for the Illusive Man to convince her to trust him.

"Yes, Mr. Moreau said the same thing when we first spoke to him about the events on the SR-1." Miranda replied. She took a sip of her coffee, having waited until just now for it to cool off. Shepard frowned at her statement.

"Why would you ask Joker about events on the SR-1? That would have been classified Alliance information."

"He also said that. We didn't ask for details regarding mission-critical information. We simply wanted to get a sense of who he was."

Shepard remained silent, taking note of the way Miranda seemed to have relaxed now that she knew Shepard wouldn't continue to pry into her personal life. While she didn't fully trust her, she still wanted to get to know her. Unlike an Alliance ship, Cerberus ran their teams differently. Fraternization wasn't as frowned upon, and crew members had a certain personal freedom in their day-to-day lives. The only one who saluted her is Jacob, and she chalked that up to Alliance training. Other than Shepard herself, Miranda was the only other person aboard who didn't quite seem to fit the Cerberus crew. She spent the majority of her time alone, and rarely sought out company in her off hours. She was friendly enough when Shepard stopped by her quarters, but it rarely involved any personal details, or anything other than mission critical information. As Shepard watched her, she now realized it would be as good a time as any to find something out about Miranda.

"So, tell me about yourself."

Miranda seemed instantly defensive, but drops her guard a little after contemplating the statement. "I guess that's fair. I've learned all there is to know about you in the past two years. Well, you should know that I've had extensive genetic modifications. Not my choice, but you live with what you're given. I was designed to be perfect; my intelligence, looks, constitution… all designed to give me an edge. I'm smarter, faster, and will live longer than the average human."

"Wow, ok. So what I'm hearing is that you're perfect? You didn't strike me as the cocky type." Shepard said as she slightly raised an eyebrow. Miranda has effectively dodged the real meaning of her question, but she doubted it was on purpose. Miranda clearly provided the most relevant – or what she though is the most relevant – information to her present audience.

"Not cocky. Just stating facts. And I'm not perfect, though I was designed to be. I still make mistakes just like everyone else."

"Right. A genetically perfect, incredibly attractive, powerful biotic rebuilt me from scratch. Well, could've been worse I suppose. At least the batarians didn't get a hold of me."

"They tried."

Shepard laughs, and finished her coffee. "Yeah, I bet they did. Them and everyone else."

There was a brief pause, and Shepard considered a way to rephrase her question so that she can actually get an idea of Miranda the woman, not Miranda the genetically tailored.

"So any family out here, or back on Earth?"

"No."

 _Ok. To the point._

"Oh. Ok. Well, what's your favourite colour?"

"Having a favourite colour seems a bit irrelevant, does it not?"

"Tough crowd. Alright, how about an easy one: did you have any pets growing up?"

"No."

Shepard stared at Miranda, who is providing clear hints that she wasn't going to answer any of the questions being posed. She found herself slightly confused by this; they were the most basic questions, and reveal little about a person. They merely serve as a conversation starter, or a way to bond over something insignificant. Miranda was clearly going to be a challenge.

She liked challenges.

"Ok, well, it's pretty clear you're not interested in talking." Shepard said with a small smile, her tone of voice reflecting that she wasn't upset. "I should probably get going anyways. Kelly wanted to talk to me about something."

"Thank you for the coffee, Commander."

"You're welcome. And Lawson?"

"Yes?"

"You can't dodge my questions forever."

* * *

Miranda made her way from the mess hall back her quarters, rolling the conversation she had with Shepard around her mind. While it had been innocent, and while Shepard seemed genuinely curious, Miranda finds herself hesitant to give the commander any details about her life. She's known the woman for literally years but even still, Miranda didn't open up easily. She thought the question about her favourite colour was ridiculous, and though she had wanted a puppy when she was young, her father wouldn't hear of it. And family? Answering questions about that was off the table. _Although it might not be for long_.

At the thought of family, Miranda's heart sinks. The information provided to her suggested that her sister is in trouble, and that Henry Lawson has tracked her down. The thought of him getting his hands on Oriana made Miranda uncharacteristically angry. She paced her room, unable to settle, wracking her brain for options; hiring mercs, relying on acquaintances to relocate the family, sending a message to Oriana herself advising her of the danger. But with each option, Miranda becomes more frustrated at the obvious drawbacks for each scenario. She opens up her terminal as she sits before it, and she takes a look at the mission list they have managed to rack up in the last three weeks. Things were running smoothly, and Miranda was impressed. For all of Shepard's volatile and irrational nature, she was an extremely effective leader. It was almost daily that missions were being checked off Miranda's list. However, the free spaces were promptly filled by other minor missions Shepard kept picking up. With the way the list was looking now, Miranda doubts she'll have any time off for anything personal.

Leaning back in her chair, she exhales and tries to think of a solution, though the normally pragmatic Cerberus operative finds herself at a loss. Stress coupled with exhaustion, and the added bonus of Oriana being in danger is making her lose focus. She knew that if she didn't find a solution, and fast, her father's henchmen would get to Oriana first.

"EDI?"

"Yes, Operative Lawson?"

"What missions has the Commander approved for tomorrow?"

"Commander Shepard has approved the mission to retrieve Okeer from the Korlus system. I believe the Commander would also like to go to the prison ship Purgatory, as that is simply a pick-up."

Miranda runs her fingers along her temples, applying pressure in an attempt to ward off the headache threatening to take up residence. The more Miranda thinks about it, the more she realized that Shepard would be the only logical option to help her with Oriana. She still has her Spectre status so she can go places mercs can't, and she commands the fastest and stealthiest frigate in the Terminus systems. The most beneficial reason to ask Shepard though, was that Shepard was a one woman wrecking machine, capable of getting in, completing the objective, and getting out. Quick, efficient and mostly quiet. The only con Miranda could think of was that Shepard might not agree. She was distant and aloof with the Cerberus crew, yet friendly and inviting to members of her former crew. She obviously had her favourites, and made it clear to all Cerberus personnel that they weren't one of them. Asking someone with a predisposed enmity to help with a personal matter could result in Miranda not receiving help at all, putting her back at square one.

Turning off her monitor, Miranda makes her way to the back of the room, shutting the curtains to create a smaller sanctuary. The soft glow of the bedside lamp reflects lightly off the calming purple curtains, and Miranda closes her eyes and exhales as she sits down on her bed. Giving herself a moment to breathe in a space that was reserved for her alone gave her a chance to focus. She replays the conversation with Shepard yet again. She had made it clear that she wanted to get to know Miranda, and was obviously not avoiding her like she tended to do with other Cerberus crew members. Asking about family seemed trivial to Shepard, but to Miranda it had been like a kick in the gut.

Miranda takes a calming breath in, and tries to focus on something other than family. Her mind helpfully provides her with other details from the conversation with Shepard. The subtle way her eyebrow moved upwards when she asked a question, or the way her green eyes shifted to watch Miranda's mouth form the reply. Her tone of voice, dripping with confidence and self assurance, even though she was reborn into a foreign place, well out of her comfort zone. Miranda hadn't been able to stop herself, and had looked – really looked – into Shepard's eyes, wanting to know more and see more. The eye contact had clearly made Shepard uncomfortable, as she had looked away rather quickly. But in that brief moment, Miranda had seen a fleeting flash of something that was truly Shepard the human, and not Shepard the Commander. Ruthless and unforgiving as she may be, there was something else to her, and Miranda wanted to know what it was.

 _First I deal with Oriana. Then I deal with figuring out Shepard._


	2. Between A Rock And A Hard Place

"Ha! Keep dreaming. That's never going to happen."

"You sure? Because I'm pretty sure that wasn't a dream back there, Shepard. I did take out at least four more krogan than you did. One day I'll get your title of 'Big Damn Hero.'"

"Well, you dream big Vakarian, I'll give you that. Cut me some slack though; I was dead for two years. I'm a little rusty."

The elevator doors opened to the CIC, and Shepard walked out with Garrus, a grin on her face. Before Garrus came aboard, she'd had a serious lack of pissing contests to banter through. Though she hadn't said it, she missed Garrus more than she thought she had. His unwavering belief in her, even though they were technically serving with Cerberus, was like a breath of fresh air. He trusted her, and didn't even think twice about joining her on the Normandy. As they entered the armoury, she had to remind herself not to get her hopes too high at the prospect of seeing the rest of her old crew and having it be the same way with them. She was a realist, and knew that the other boot isn't far from falling.

Stripping out of her armour, she ran through the mission they had just returned from. It had naturally gone sideways in the matter of minutes, and their objective of 'find Okeer' had changed to killing dozens of seek and destroy krogan, and rescuing one still in his tank. Losing Okeer in the process had not been part of the plan, and Shepard hoped that it didn't impact them going forward. Gaining a krogan super soldier though would be a huge win, if she could convince the team it was worth the risk of waking him up.

"Are we still heading to Purgatory?" Garrus asked as he placed his sniper rifle gently in its locker.

"Might as well. That mission only took what, four hours? I've already got Joker plotting a course to the Hourglass Nebula. This package is the last thing we need to grab from the main mission list we were given, and then maybe we can take a short break or something."

"Well, let me know if you need me. I might go down to the lounge and sample some of the dextro liquor the Illusive Man so graciously provided us."

"Great, I'll just take your drunk ass to a prison ship. I don't see how this could possibly go wrong." Shepard countered playfully. Garrus laughed, his mandibles flicking in amusement.

"You'd be surprised. Turians actually aim better when drunk." Garrus remarked as he headed towards the elevator.

Entering into the CIC brought Shepard back to reality. For the briefest of moments, she had allowed herself to go back two years, to the time before her whole world collapsed in on itself in a haze of fire and burning lungs. She shook her head at the new CIC in front of her, instead of the old one she had been expecting. A lump formed in her throat, and she could feel her anger at the situation surface slightly. She had to stop herself from snapping at Kelly after she heard her name being called.

"Sorry Shepard, I didn't mean to jump at you as soon as you came out. Operative Lawson and Operative Taylor are waiting in the comm room for the debrief."

Shepard nodded, heading back to the comm room without a word. Her mood darkened quickly, and by the time she had walked the twenty feet to the debriefing room, she was no longer in the mood to be around anyone. As the doors opened, she caught the conversation occurring between the two Cerberus operatives.

"… if something crazy happens, we space it. What's the big deal Miranda?"

"The big deal is that it's a krogan, Jacob. A krogan that hasn't been exposed to anything but the force fed propaganda of a madman. If it suddenly has freedom, we don't know how it will react."

"The situation should be familiar to you. You turned out just fine."

At Jacob's words, Shepard watched Miranda's face change from irritated, to shocked, to downright angry. Whatever the meaning behind Jacob's statement, it clearly hit a nerve. Jacob looked almost satisfied at the reaction, like he wanted to hit that nerve and cause that discomfort. Shepard wasn't entirely convinced Jacob's motivations for joining Cerberus were as noble as he claimed, and she didn't quite trust him yet. But now she was wary, as he was clearly pouring salt in a wound.

"Regardless, it is a volatile and unpredictable entity, and I will not risk it doing any damage to the ship." Miranda replied, and Shepard watched her as she tried to contain her anger.

"So what, you just want an enormous paper weight?"

"Enough." Shepard said, cutting off Miranda's attempt at a reply. Her headache was coming in fast, and the conversation was grating on her nerves. "Good thing neither of you get to decide this. Seriously Jacob, what the fuck is your problem?"

"Nothing, Commander."

"Good." Shepard replied, staring intently at the former Alliance soldier. He seemed cowed, and visibly backed down. "Now, if you two are finished, I'd like to get this over with. I've got the krogan stored in the port cargo hold. I haven't decided what I want to do with him yet, but Miranda's concerns are valid. It's a damn krogan. If it doesn't like the look of us, he'll just try and kill us all. It's smart to be cautious. That being said, he would be invaluable on the ground team."

"That's if he doesn't mind helping in the first place. I doubt anyone's asked him what he wants." Miranda said quietly, avoiding eye contact with Jacob.

"Right. So I want to talk to him. Find out what he wants to do, and maybe work out a way to get him to join us. I realize that sounds naïve, but at this point it's all we can do. Sure as shit beats arguing about it."

This time Shepard looked between the two of them, and they were both obviously embarrassed about the previous exchange. Jacob looked like he still had old wounds left untreated, and Miranda looked like she regretted not caring more. The realization that they had once been together slowly dawned on her, leaving a peculiar feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Understood?" Shepard asked as she pushed the feeling aside.

Jacob saluted his assent, and Miranda nodded, as they both left the room.

* * *

o.o.o

Shepard finished the rest of her rounds with a feeling of unease accompanying her. She could still feel the remnants of disbelief, anger, frustration, and general anxiety that she woke up with. She struggled to come to terms with her life and the situation she was in. It was as though someone flicked a light switch off and on; one moment she was basking in the glow of a hard won victory, the next she was waking up in some strange lab being shot to hell by mechs. She still hadn't gotten any clear answers to her questions, so she'd completely given up on asking them anymore. The organization that rebuilt her, that gave her a purpose, was ultimately working on their own timeline of understanding. One that Shepard knew she wouldn't be privy to.

Losing her command, and the family that was the Alliance, hit her the hardest. Instead of salutes and 'yes ma'ams', Shepard was getting nods or informal confirmation to orders or requests. It was unexpected, unfamiliar, and unwelcome. She missed the days where her orders weren't questioned. She would be able to ask questions and get a cut and dried answer. Protocol was followed, and inspections happened. While chaos on the battlefield was one thing, Shepard maintained a reliable and comfortable order on her ship.

With a foul mood, and a raging headache, Shepard made her way to the mess hall. They were getting close to arriving at the prison ship, and Shepard knew if she didn't get some food into her now, she'd end up killing someone she wasn't supposed to. Gardner was nowhere to be found, so Shepard decided on a particularly boring looking MRE. While she waited for it to warm up, the kettle beside her clicked its completion. As if on cue, the next sound she heard was the door to Miranda's quarters sliding open.

"Do you have the kettle set through to your omni-tool?" Shepard asked as Miranda rounded the corner.

"No. I just have impeccable timing." Miranda replied, a small smile creeping across her mouth.

"Uh huh."

Shepard squinted her eyes and watched Miranda make her tea. There was something different about how Miranda was acting, and Shepard picked up on it immediately. She was carrying herself differently, as though she was wounded. She looked drained, and her face was a mask of stress and worry. Shepard briefly entertained the thought of asking Miranda what the argument with Jacob was really about, but pushed the thought down. Their previous exchange regarding personal matters hadn't exactly produced an inviting conversation.

"Commander?"

Shepard's eyes focused as Miranda pulled her back to reality. She realized too late that she had clearly been staring at the woman in front of her. Blue eyes looked into hers expectantly, and just one eyebrow was raised suggestively. Shepard couldn't have stopped herself from scanning Miranda's face if she tried, before she finally realized that she needed to respond.

"Sorry. What did you say?"

"I said that your MRE is done."

 _I wish she wouldn't raise her eyebrow like that._

"Thanks. I'm having a hard time focusing. I have a wicked headache." Miranda's brows knitted together at Shepard's statement, and she instantly looked concerned.

"Could be a problem with your new amp. It has significantly more power than your old one. Have you let Chakwas check your cybernetics yet? They could be heating up too much and causing problems within your soft tissue."

"Damn, it's just a headache. I get them all the time." Shepard replied. She immediately began to regret saying anything of the sort as Miranda started to inch closer, trying to get a look at the cybernetics.

"It's really not something to brush aside Commander. There are serious repercussions to cybernetic malfunctions. Repercussions that include death. You really ought to have Chakwas take a look." Miranda's eyes scanned Shepard's face, looking at the orange lines that were starting to fade. She was close enough that Shepard caught a hint of perfume, and saw her heartbeat drum against the hollow of her neck.

"I don't need someone fussing over me, Lawson. I'll be fine." Shepard felt a slight irritation creeping up on her at the insistence, as well as a feeling of anxiety over Miranda being so close to her. It wasn't that it made Shepard feel bad. It was the opposite feeling that was causing anxiety.

"Commander, I really – "

"Fuck. Fine, I'll go and see Chakwas. Can I eat first, or do you think I'll explode halfway through my meal?"

Miranda had taken a step back at the tone Shepard used, but didn't comment on it. Shepard was glad to see that Miranda's expression held something akin to amusement instead of affront.

"No, I doubt you'll explode. Enjoy your meal, Commander."

Shepard watched her walk away, and exhaled heavily once she heard the door to her quarters hiss shut. The steam rising from the kettle caught her eye, and she worked to take stock of her current emotions as she watched it twirl into the air. Her recent emotions were a mess of a thing; anger, despair, and regret were her close companions. While she was fighting and running she could make sense of them, but when she was cooped up on the ship they seemed to get the better of her. Having Miranda stand so close to her didn't help, and merely added a new emotion to the list of ones she still had to figure out. Being attracted to someone wasn't a foreign concept to her, but it was the 'why' that had caught her off-guard. She'd been holding people an arms length away from her at all times since taking over this new ship. Even the surprisingly endearing Kelly Chambers was kept at bay, and she was either too frightened or intimidated after Shepard's initial meeting with her to push further. Shepard had made it clear that she didn't need a psychologist, and she certainly didn't need one keeping tabs on her. Since then, Kelly had been pleasant and kind, but formal. And Shepard liked it that way.

Miranda was a different hurdle altogether. Shepard was also keeping her at a distance, if not more so than the rest of the crew. Yet at an increasingly alarming rate, Shepard was beginning to drop her guard around the operative, wanting to know more about her, which would mean divulging more about herself. As she grabbed her MRE and sat down to eat, she wondered if it were an actual emotion that she would need to process, or simply her feeling of loneliness looking to fill the void.

"Commander, ETA to Purgatory is half an hour." came the sound of Joker's voice over the comm.

"Got it." Shepard replied. She quickly downed her MRE, and with a resigned sigh, walked into the medbay.

* * *

o.o.o

Shepard eyed the insane biotic in front of her as she paced the room. Purgatory hadn't gone as planned, but at this point Shepard was no longer surprised. Two hours later and the prison ship was gone, and Shepard had the meanest ball of hate she'd ever seen eyeing Miranda up like she was her next meal.

"I don't take orders from this bitch. I'm here because of our agreement Shepard."

"And you'll have access to the files when I'm ready. Until then, you'll just have to wait."

"Fine, but don't make me wait long. Otherwise I'll have to find a way to get them myself. I don't think the Cerberus Cheerleader here will like the way I do it either." Jack sneered. "I'll be down in the lower decks where it's dark and quiet. Try not to bother me."

Shepard watched Jack leave in silence, and turned to see Miranda's reaction. She was pinching the bridge of her nose as though willing away a headache. As she dropped her hand, she opened her eyes to look at Shepard, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Hey, don't fucking look at me like that. I'm not the one who decided she should tag along."

"Commander, do you need to be so crass?"

"No, but I like that word. Either way, it wasn't my call. Talk to your boss if you're pissed off about it."

"First a potential krogan time bomb, and now a human time bomb? There's only so much room in the holding cells."

"Well, worst case scenario the krogan and Jack end up in one and we'll let them fight it out. Might be good for them."

The look on Miranda's face almost made Shepard laugh. "That was a joke, Miranda."

"I realize that Shepard. I'm just amazed you said what I was thinking."

"Wow, so you do have a dark side to you. And here I thought you were all rainbows and puppies."

"Good Lord, what would ever give you that idea?" Miranda replied, and this time Shepard did laugh at the look of horror on her face.

"Oh I don't know. Just a feeling I suppose. Anyways, I probably should crack open the krogan. Might as well get it over with." Shepard said as they made their way to the elevator. The interaction with Jack had left a bitter taste in her mouth, and the fire Miranda had taken within the first two minutes of meeting Jack hadn't helped. To her credit, it hadn't really fazed Miranda. She had just watched Jack's tantrum as though it was the most boring thing in the universe, and hadn't risen to the bait Jack tried to throw in front of her. For all her cold demeanor and icy attitude, Miranda was incredibly perceptive towards other people. She knew when to lose the battle in order to win the war. Shepard was impressed. She knew that if roles were reversed, and Shepard had been on the receiving end of Jack's insanity, Jack wouldn't have walked out of the room.

Shepard was jolted back to the present when the elevator doors opened to the crew deck, and Miranda slid past her, her hand brushing against Shepard's. The contact was unexpected, and unintentional, but it instantly made Shepard's stomach flip.

"Good luck, Shepard. Have EDI let me know if you need back up."

"I will." Shepard managed to respond as she watched Miranda walk away.

* * *

o.o.o

"Miranda, put the gun down."

"Once the krogan has released you, I might consider it."

 _Why does nothing go smoothly?_

"Look, I know this looks bad, but – "

"What it looks like, Commander, is that a krogan has you in a choke hold."

Shepard flicked her eyes between the hulking mass of a krogan glaring down at her, and the oddly ferocious woman standing to her right. She could feel the hard metal of the krogans armour digging into her flesh, his weight pressing in slowly. Shepard knew that one wrong move would cause the krogan's forearm to crush her windpipe. Any move at all could cause Miranda to fire her weapon.

A grin spreads across Shepard's face, and slowly it turned into a low chuckle. The krogan frowned, and she felt him release his arm a fraction of an inch.

"From where I stand, things don't look too amusing, Shepard."

"Y'know, this is first time in my life I've literally been between a rock and a hard place." Shepard replied. She looked over to catch Miranda's reaction to her obviously life-altering realization. Miranda didn't look like she found it as funny.

The krogan, however, chuckled in response. Shepard took it as a sign of lowering hostility, and gently continued her conversation.

"Look, big guy. I get that you're confused. Trust me, we're not too different, you and I. But give me a chance. Come fight with me, and I promise you won't lack for bad guys to kill."

"Your enemies are worthy?"

"Uh… yeah. Sure. They're worth bringing me back from the dead just to fight them."

The krogan appeared to contemplate what Shepard said. He slowly released his arm from her neck, and backed away a few steps. Shepard heard the exhale of breath coming from Miranda, and saw her lower her weapon.

"This… this is acceptable. I will fight for you, Shepard. You can call me Grunt."

Shepard nodded, and with a glance at Miranda, walked past her towards the elevator. Within moments, the sound of Miranda's heels followed quickly behind her.

"Commander, you should have had backup down here." Miranda said as Shepard pressed the call button. She didn't reply, and instead watched the floor display above the elevator. She heard Miranda holster her weapon and sighed as she did so. "I should have known better. If something had happened…"

The elevator door opened, and Shepard walked in wordlessly, pressing the button for the captain's quarters as Miranda slid in beside her.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Miranda asked, and Shepard looked over at her. She folded her arms in front of her, calmly regarding the other woman.

"What do you want me to say? I opened it up and got exactly what I expected."

"You expected to end up crushed against the hold?"

"Yep."

"Shepard, you could have been seriously injured. He could have thrown you across the room and knocked you out."

"But he didn't."

Shepard felt the frustration radiating off Miranda, and wondered why she was getting herself so worked up. She had the situation in the cargo hold completely under control, and it only escalated marginally when Miranda barged in with her gun drawn. The look in Grunt's eyes wasn't a murderous rage. It was confusion and inner turmoil, a lack of comprehension and understanding. Shepard was sure it was the same look in her own eyes half the time.

"You couldn't have known that. What if I hadn't shown up when I did?"

The elevator doors opened again, and Shepard strode out towards her quarters. Miranda's footsteps followed behind her without hesitation.

"Then the situation would have ended up the same. Grunt didn't consider you a threat."

"You really need to be more careful, Commander."

Shepard paused at the top of the steps leading down to her bed. She heard the irritation in Miranda's voice, and the constant nipping at her heels was causing her own irritation to surface. Turning around to face Miranda, Shepard stared back at the determined eyes looking into her own.

"What is this really about? I put myself in danger about nineteen thousand times a day, and you don't meet me down at the shuttle telling me to be more careful. It was one krogan, you really think he would've killed me on my own damn ship?"

"That was a very real possibility."

"Bullshit. Something else has you all twisted up. What is it, Lawson?"

Shepard stared at her and waited for the reply. Miranda's face was a mask, one that she had only put up within the last few minutes. She cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms in front of her.

"You are an important asset. One that we would not want to lose due to an oversight in security protocol."

The answer hit Shepard like a ton of bricks.

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to run that by me again, because that sounded an awful lot like you consider me property, instead of a fucking human being."

"Shepard, I just meant –"

"Don't 'Shepard' me. Do you just see a billion credits when you look at me? A reconstruction, designed to help humanity, but really just to help further Cerberus' goals?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean?" Shepard asked as she took a step closer to Miranda. She made no attempt to hide the anger and hurt she felt at Miranda's statement. She had begun to reach a level of comfort with Miranda, actively trying to make a connection with the woman who rebuilt her. To have Miranda see her as an asset instead of a living, breathing person hurt her instantly.

"You are important."

Shepard saw something in Miranda's face falter for the briefest of moments. It was as though a shadow crossed overhead; noticeable but gone in an instant. The look reflected back from those blue eyes wasn't one of ownership, but of genuine concern. Shepard clenched her jaw as she realized that Miranda wasn't able to articulate an actual emotion, and instead relied upon scripted words. Miranda's cheeks had flushed slightly from embarrassment, and she looked as though more words were begging to escape.

"Look, I knew what the hell I was doing down there." Shepard said, tempering her words. "I had the situation under control, though I appreciate your concern."

Shepard looked earnestly at the woman standing in front of her; her arms crossed and expression frustratingly neutral. The realization that she had followed Shepard up to her cabin must have dawned on her, and Shepard watched as Miranda's eyes went wider for a split second. The blue gaze flicked between the bed and Shepard's own eyes, and a curious flush spread across Miranda's cheeks.

"Commander, I apologize for not trusting you. I'll see you at the debrief."

Shepard's eyes followed the operative as she made a surprisingly quick retreat towards the elevator. As the door closed behind her, Shepard exhaled heavily.

"Joker?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Apparently we're going to need krogan rations. Can you get us to the Citadel?"

"You bet, Commander. You doing ok? Security vids showed you almost got turned into a pancake."

"I'm fine Joker."

 _Mostly._


	3. O Captain My Captain

A/N: A special thank you to the beautiful A.E. McDuff, who made the wonderful cover image for this story. I heart it!

Thank you to everyone who has left reviews, and is following/favouriting this story. I didn't expect this many views this quickly, and it's lovely to hear from you. Feel free to leave me feedback or ideas, questions or concerns.

Enjoy :)

* * *

"Ms. Lawson, need I remind you of the nature of your role? I don't appreciate the idea that my top operative has somehow become… distracted."

"Sir, I can assure you that I am in no way distracted."

"That's not what I'm hearing. I understand that the situation I've placed you in is one of high stress, and potentially life threatening. You of all people know what that does to one's psyche. But I need you to remain focused on the tasks at hand. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

Miranda watched the blue-tinged figure of the Illusive Man disintegrate as the holo feed cut out. She had a sneaking suspicion that the feeling in the pit of her stomach was closely related to trepidation, or fear. It was something she hadn't felt in a long time, not since her father berated her for a poor mark on a physics exam. Staring at the now empty space, she worked on calming her breathing, willing away the tension that had crept into her muscles. Miranda wasn't entirely sure she knew what distraction the Illusive Man was referring to… her sister or Shepard. She was doing her best to hide it, but she had become aware of an insignificant and irresponsible attraction to her CO. She was sure Shepard herself had no idea, and Miranda had no intention of making it known. There was too much at stake to let personal feelings get in the way, and Miranda had enough to deal with as it was.

With Shepard and her ground team planet-side, the Normandy was in silent orbit above Horizon, keeping a careful eye on her commander. Miranda noticed with a critical eye the efficiency of the CIC crew as she made her way to the elevator. In particular, she caught the sidelong glance of Kelly, who looked away quickly when Miranda came through the science lab door.

 _Intriguing._

She didn't doubt that the Yeoman was the one to report to the Illusive Man any distractions Miranda might have. Kelly's reports were the only ones that bypassed Miranda and went directly to the Illusive Man himself, a fact which grated on Miranda's desire for full control. The Illusive Man had picked Kelly for a reason, and that reason was Kelly's undeniably accurate ability to read people. She was polite, friendly, and open. She made herself appear welcoming and comfortable, which lulled fellow crew members into a feeling of security. It's what made Kelly good at her job. And Miranda detested it. It was bad enough she had Shepard starting to pry into her personal life; she certainly didn't want someone like Kelly Chambers doing it as well.

"Shuttle en route to Normandy, ETA 20 minutes. Please prep hangar bay for incoming shuttle. Doctor Chakwas, please report to the medbay for treatment of non-life threatening injuries."

Joker's voice permeated the silence of the elevator, and Miranda felt some of the tension release from her shoulders. It was rare that she joined Shepard on missions now that she had almost a full complement of well trained soldiers at her back. Miranda's skills were better served on the Normandy rather than ground-side. Every mission typically went off without a hitch, but there was always a risk where Shepard was concerned. While researching Shepard for Project Lazarus, Miranda had poured through hundreds of vids; her Spectre induction, edited versions of helmet cam recordings, and tons of Alliance propaganda films. Miranda had seen the way Shepard obliterated her targets, turning them into dust, usually with a laugh. The vids displaying Shepard in that light were classified and never to be viewed by the public eye, but being a top level Cerberus operative had its benefits, and obtaining classified information was a breeze. It hadn't taken long for Miranda to realize that it was a miracle Shepard had survived her first few years with the Alliance. Either a miracle, or brilliantly dumb luck.

Exiting the elevator, Miranda found herself almost bumping into Doctor Chakwas as she made her way to the medbay. The doctor smiled politely, and Miranda couldn't help but faintly smile back. Snagging Doctor Chakwas was a huge win for Cerberus; she was one of the only people in the galaxy, save only for Shepard's mother, who knew the commander well. On the same token, Chakwas was one of the few people Shepard trusted wholeheartedly, and Miranda could see why. The doctor brokered no argument when it came to medical requirements, and she commanded respect. She possessed a heart of gold, and treated the crew more like family than coworkers. Her steady, quiet insistence had quickly won over the hearts of most of the crew, and she was slowly pulling Miranda in as well.

"Operative Lawson, it's lovely to see you. While I have you, I thought I should mention that I have a report ready regarding Shepard's cybernetic implants. I assumed you would like a copy."

"Thank you Doctor, that would be wonderful. She had me worried yesterday when she mentioned a headache."

Miranda followed Chakwas towards the medbay, pausing just inside the doorway as Chakwas made her way inwards.

"Yes, Shepard's headaches are a common enough thing, but certainly worth looking into, especially considering the amount of cybernetics grafted into her. She had mentioned that you were quite… insistent that she come to see me about the headaches." Chakwas finished with a smile and handed her a datapad. Miranda scanned the doctors face to find an angle, or a hint of reproach. The conversation with the Illusive Man was still fresh, and she didn't want to come across as unprofessional.

"Well, there are a plethora of things that can go wrong with poorly managed cybernetics, as you well know. Considering how stubborn Shepard can be, I wanted to ensure she did come to you for a check-up."

"Indeed, I completely agree with you," Chakwas said, meeting Miranda's gaze, "Shepard is a lot of things, and the foremost of those is stubborn. At least you had the benefit of working with her while she was unconscious." Chakwas finished with a chuckle.

Miranda watched the doctor for a moment as she prepared the medbay. Gauzes and bandages were laid out neatly, and bags of IV fluid hung from their holders. Miranda recognized the image printed on to them; electrolyte fluid and a simple saline drip. She listened to Chakwas' hummed tune as the IV lines were prepped and disinfected, and curtains drawn out between the beds. It was calm and quiet right now, but fairly soon it would be packed with a krogan, a turian, and Shepard. Reflecting on Chakwas' comment, Miranda supposed it must be difficult to get a headstrong commander to follow orders when it came to medical matters, but at least Chakwas had the pleasure of conversing with her patient nonetheless. Glancing down at the datapad, Miranda was reminded that she had dozens more just like it waiting on her desk.

"Thank you for this report, Doctor. I better get back to it." Miranda provided with a resigned sigh.

"It's my pleasure Miranda. Let me know if you need anything else."

* * *

o.o.o

Miranda sat at her terminal hours later, still pouring over the Collector data that had been retrieved from Horizon. Most of it was a complicated mess of system information and ship readings that she didn't quite understand, but the importance of the information superseded a lack of comprehension, and she combed through it with determination. EDI had been invaluable during the mission; her cyberwarfare suite had done an admirable job of infiltrating the Collector vessel's data banks, although there were still massive pieces of information missing. Combating Reaper technology was a huge risk and Miranda had instructed the AI to only gather intel that didn't require a deep sweep of the systems. The last thing she wanted was to have a virus infiltrate the Normandy's systems.

Doctor Chakwas' report had come in as well, and Miranda had scanned it quickly before adding it to the main mission report. No major injuries to note, just a few lacerations, bruising from some close contact with husks, and burns from what appeared to be an energy weapon. Ever the conscientious soldier, Shepard had managed to bring one of the energy weapons on board. Between Daniels, Donnelly, and Jacob, Miranda hoped they would be able to disassemble it and find out exactly what kind of technology the Collectors had at their disposal.

Checking the time on her terminal forced a frustrated sigh to escape her lips; hours of work still remained, but it was already well past the time she should be off-duty. She smirked at the recollection of Shepard's comment that she was always working, and decided to prove the commander wrong for once. She punched in a command on her omni-tool and shut down her terminal. Stretching her arms above her head, she felt the pull and tug of her muscles as they were forced into a new position. With a slight yawn, she stood up and decided that she would do something she had been longing to do for years; she would read a book. Kasumi of all people had loaned Miranda a book from her own personal collection that she had brought on board. Miranda had almost laughed at her when Kasumi suggested it, but the slow smile of the slight master thief had convinced her to take it. She caught a glimpse of it on her night stand as she changed into a pair of Cerberus track pants and a tank top, and once again scoffed at the notion of reading a romance novel. _Really, who has time for that kind of nonsense?_

Her omni-tool beeped, and Miranda padded towards the mess hall. The Normandy was in its night cycle, and the lights had been dimmed on this level. Even the medbay lights were off, and Miranda was thankful for that. It meant no one urgently needed it, and Chakwas was able to get some down time. She scanned the mess hall as she walked towards the kettle. She knew someone else was in there, and the clink of glass on the metal table, followed by a curse, told her who it was. She quickly put her walls up, her mind betraying her instantly by shoving the memory of a displeased Illusive Man to the forefront. As she poured her tea, she heard the glass make contact with the table again, followed by the sound of more liquid being poured into it.

"Care to have a drink with me?"

Pushing aside the notion of reading, Miranda moved towards the table Shepard was occupying. Instead of sitting where she normally would be, Miranda found her at the table closest to the elevator, where a little less light was coming through. A half empty bottle of vodka shared the space with her and as she sat down, Shepard raised a glass in a mock toast and downed the contents, clumsily placing the glass down again. Miranda noted her posture, the way she was sitting slouched over the glass, her hair still tied up but slowly defying gravity as strands fell from their restraints. Miranda felt a sense of unease slowly creep in; Shepard looked dangerous. There was something to her that Miranda hadn't seen before. An edge – a hard, murderous edge – that was causing the air around her to practically crackle with an undeniable anger. A glance at the bottle told Miranda that the storm would likely start in about four more glasses.

"I heard the kettle click, and I knew you wouldn't be far behind." Shepard stated as she poured more vodka into the glass.

"I have impeccable timing, remember?"

"Sure. I remember."

A pause was accented by Shepard spinning the glass, her fingers steady despite the amount of alcohol she'd consumed. Miranda watched the bones and tendons move in that simple way, knowing that the hand making the movement was also capable of biotically punching an armoured opponent in the face. The knuckles had callouses on them from where her gauntlets rubbed against the skin, and Miranda remembered a time when that same skin was new and soft. She pushed aside the desire to touch, to know what the rough skin must feel like now.

"Ever been in love, Lawson?"

"Excuse me?" Miranda replied, the question catching her off guard. Her eyes moved from Shepard's hand to her face, but the commander still wasn't looking at her. Her eyes were rimmed red, and she had a new bruise on her left cheek, darkening the skin that still had traces of orange showing through.

"You heard me."

"No. I haven't."

Shepard downed the glass, but didn't refill it once she had placed it down again. Miranda studied her face, trying to figure out where the mood, and the question, had come from. Horizon had been a successful mission. No injuries, plenty of data collected, half a colony saved. There was little else in Shepard's report that would indicate a need for this much alcohol. _Perhaps it is a delayed response to waking up to a changed galaxy…_

"I thought I had once. Maybe it wasn't love, but it sure felt like it. The more I think about it though, the more I realize I was in love with an idea. How can you be in love with something intangible?" More vodka filled the glass. "I mean, you pour your heart and soul into something. You nurture it and watch it grow, and you grow with it. And then in an instant, it's gone. Casting you out, washing you away, calling you a traitor. Why is that fair? Why do I have to deal with that?"

 _Ah._

"What happened on Horizon, Commander?"

Shepard's eyes met Miranda's for the first time since she sat down. Miranda barely recognized the look being directed at her. The green eyes were clear and focused, but dark shadows had taken up residence just below them. She could see an anger there and a deeply rooted hurt. Miranda's resolve faltered for a moment; no one should look this wounded, least of all Shepard. The sound of the elevator doors opening distracted her for a moment, but Shepard's gaze remained steady on Miranda's face. Out of the corner of her eye, Miranda saw Kelly walk into the mess hall, quietly making her way towards the MRE machine. Something must have shown on her face, because when Miranda focused on Shepard again, she watched her green eyes narrow, and switch from Miranda to Kelly with the briefest look of confusion before focusing on the bottle again.

"I saw someone on Horizon that I didn't expect to see." Shepard answered as she poured more vodka. "If it wasn't for his stupid dumb luck, Kaidan would be on that Collector ship right now. Instead, he was left behind, and I got to hear how I've betrayed him as well as the Alliance."

"I'm sorry Shepard. I didn't know."

"Whatever. Fuck him, he was an ass about it."

"Were you two – "

"No." Shepard replied emphatically.

"Not that it's any of my business." Miranda felt her face flush at the stupidity of the question, acutely aware that Kelly was still in the mess hall. She took a sip of her now lukewarm tea, and pulled herself back towards her safe zone of impassivity. They sat in silence for a moment, and Shepard resumed her spinning of the glass. Kelly quietly made an exit, and once again the two of them were left alone.

"Maybe one day." Shepard whispered, eventually breaking the silence as she began peeling the label off the vodka bottle.

"Maybe one day what?"

"Maybe one day I'll fall in love, and not just with an idea."

Miranda watched Shepard closely, trying to keep her expression neutral. Whatever this Kaidan person had said to her had clearly cut her deep. Combine that with the mental and emotional shock of being brought back from the brink of death, and Shepard was quickly losing control of her state of mind. Miranda saw the signs of exhaustion, heartbreak and fatigue as though the words were written on the very fabric of Shepard's being. The love she had for the Alliance meant nothing to them, and with the exception of three crew members, she no longer had the people around her that she once considered family. It took an immense amount of control to not reach out and touch the woman in front of her, if only to provide some consolation.

"I don't doubt that you will, Commander." she finally replied, pushing aside any personal feelings she might be harboring. Shepard looked up from the bottle and Miranda noticed the immediate change in her; the murderous anger was gone. It was somehow tempered during their conversation, yet there were still traces of pain lingering in the emerald eyes. For the first time since she sat down, Miranda noticed that she seemed to be actually aware of her. Shepard's eyes quickly scanned over her, and a small, guilty smile crept onto her face.

"I just realized that I probably pulled you away from your down time. I'm sitting here wallowing in self pity, and you're just trying to forget that you manage a warship during the day."

"A warship _and_ a Commander. One of whom has probably disregarded a certain Doctor's orders by downing over half a bottle of vodka."

Shepard looked away and frowned at the comment. "Why am I the only one who isn't worried about my own damn health?"

"You've got two other people worrying for you."

"Because I'm an asset?" Shepard asked, though Miranda saw the barely concealed smirk.

"You're more than an asset, Commander."

"Are you flirting with me, Lawson?" Green eyes met blue again, except this time there was curiosity in the look as well. Miranda's heart skipped a beat. The desire to say yes was almost squashed by the need to remain professional.

Almost.

"Perhaps. Though I think there might be something influencing your ability to correctly read a situation."

Shepard narrowed her eyes and quirked her head to the side, a posture that Miranda recognized immediately as an interest piqued. Miranda knew that she had to leave the situation quickly before a line was crossed.

"I should be going. I have a lot of things that I need to take care of." Miranda bluffed, "I hope you find the answers you're looking for, Shepard."

As she made her way back to her cabin, she heard Shepard's whispered words behind her.

"Maybe one day."


	4. How The Heart Behaves

A/N: Thanks to all you wonderful folks who are reading, reviewing and following this story. I appreciate the feedback.

Enjoy the chapter, and feel free to let me know what you think!

* * *

"Commander?"

"Yeah?"

"We've got a situation on deck four… it looks like our little tank baby has got a bit of blood rage going on."

Shepard stopped mid-run, and her heart leapt in her chest. Glancing up at the cargo hold window, she noticed that it was cracked, but she couldn't see the krogan behind it.

 _Miranda is going to kill me._

"I'm on my way Joker. Get a security detail down there."

"Yes ma'am."

She sprinted the remaining length of the shuttle bay, but was forced to wait an agonizingly long time for the elevator. Looking again at the window, she still didn't see Grunt, and she hoped Joker was kidding about the blood rage part. There was nothing, short of tranquilizers, that would stop a krogan who was mid-blood rage. Dressed in her running gear, she also had no armour to speak of. _Well, this ought to be fun._

By the time she arrived at the cargo hold door, three Cerberus guards were already waiting, weapons held against their chests. One of them looked her over, quickly averting his eyes when he caught the stare she was giving him. Shepard realized that she probably looked like a disaster after having been working out, but her ship would look worse if she didn't deal with Grunt.

"EDI, stand by with the kinetic barriers. I want you three to stay out here for the moment. Don't come through that door until I call for you. Understood?" Three nods followed her question, and almost as an afterthought Shepard added, "And for the love of God, don't let Operative Lawson in here."

Shepard walked towards the door. It slid open immediately, and she walked in to find Grunt standing by his tank. There was a dent in the hold close to his tank, containers lay scattered around the room as though they were thrown, and what had looked like a small crack in the window was actually much bigger, with small pieces of glass littering the floor below it. Shepard eyed the krogan carefully; if he was actually in a murderous rage, she needed to make sure she could get out of the room before he jammed her against a wall again. To her surprise, he looked relatively calm.

"What the hell happened in here Grunt?"

"I was rearranging things."

"Very funny." Shepard said, still on guard and waiting for him to make a move. "Joker said you're tearing up the place. What's going on?"

The ensuing conversation had Shepard torn between strangling her pilot for putting her on edge, and strangling Grunt for demolishing the room. She had EDI run a biometric scan on him, but could find nothing in the way of an illness. Having a destructive krogan on her ship was a risk she was willing to take in exchange for help against the Collectors, but a krogan that was more aggressive than normal? That she couldn't risk.

"Alright, we're going to have to get you to Tuchanka. Maybe Wrex knows what the problem is. In the mean time, can you not put your head through glass windows? There's a perfectly good punching bag down in the shuttle bay."

"It's too squishy."

"Put some metal beams in it or something. Just no more ship destruction, OK?"

"Got it, Shepard. And thanks for taking me to Tuchanka. Anger is my choice, not a disease."

Shepard exhaled heavily and left the room, almost bumping into the guard detail she had completely forgotten about. She was slightly disappointed to see that Miranda was not with them, and missed the look of reproach that somehow managed to make her look more attractive. Shepard frowned and shook her head. _Now is not the time._

"You guys are clear to go. Turns out my pilot has a penchant for being way too dramatic."

The three guards wandered off towards engineering while she waited for the elevator. The situation with Grunt had been an excellent way to clear out the remains of her hangover, considering the amount of adrenaline that had instantly flooded her at the prospect of a hull breach. She made a mental note to talk to Joker about his ability to exaggerate as she entered the elevator and pressed the button for the crew deck.

She caught the enticing smell of coffee as she rounded the corner towards the mess hall. Few people were around, considering it was still fairly early, yet Gardner was hard at work making the breakfast everyone would be down to retrieve soon. Her desire for coffee almost overrode the need to inform her XO of the mess that was the port cargo hold, but she continued towards Miranda's door. She was surprised when it opened immediately for her, but more surprising was the scene she walked into.

Miranda was leaning against her desk, her arms at her side to support her weight. She was clearly not ready to be on duty yet, as she was only dressed in a pair of silk pajama pants and a loose fitting hoodie. Standing in front of her was Jacob, his hands clasped behind his back. Shepard almost sighed with relief once her brain registered that he was thankfully dressed in his usual attire. The body language wasn't lost on Shepard though; there was no hint of either of them being guarded, and Miranda's relaxed position spoke of her being relatively comfortable with Jacob's proximity. And he was much too close. Both of them had turned to look at her as she walked in, and Shepard noticed that Miranda's back straightened and she tensed slightly. Jacob, however, hadn't moved.

"Uh, sorry about barging in like this," Shepard started, and she felt herself grow cold and uncomfortable about walking in on what clearly was a private moment. "I would have knocked, but the door had other ideas."

Miranda tried to stand up and move past Jacob, but his proximity meant that she had to brush against him in order to do so. Shepard wanted to punch him in that instant, though she found she couldn't land a legitimate reason as to why.

"Commander, I wasn't expecting you this early." Miranda said, and Shepard saw the look on her face. It was a blend of discomfort and the need to explain what Shepard was witnessing. She didn't want an explanation, and she knew Miranda wouldn't provide one now. She unwillingly glanced around the room, and caught sight of the rumpled sheets on the bed, a few pieces of clothing laying on the floor beside it, and a fresh coffee waiting on the desk beside the terminal.

"There was an incident with Grunt that I had to resolve, and I wanted to fill you in on it." Shepard provided, bringing her attention back to Miranda. She knew that her tone was coming across as cold, yet she didn't much care. Jacob still hadn't moved, nor was he making an attempt to excuse himself. Shepard guessed that he was expecting her to brief them both. While Shepard was comfortable in almost any situation, including speaking to the vanguard of a race of machines, defeating rogue Spectres, or killing Batarians in cold blood, she found herself exceedingly uncomfortable with her current circumstance. She wanted out, and she wanted that to happen now.

"Of course, Commander. I – "

"Don't worry about it. I'll come back later." Shepard didn't leave room for Miranda to contradict her, and turned to leave before either Cerberus operative could say anything. Once the door had closed behind her, Shepard stood for a moment in the hallway. Some of the crew were in the mess hall enjoying their breakfast, chatting about their duties for the day. Shepard watched and listened to them with a feeling of numbness that she didn't know what to do with. She had felt more sure of herself when faced with a blood raging krogan than what she had just walked into.

"Commander, I've got a fresh pot of coffee on. Want a cup?" she heard Gardner ask. She met his eye and shook her head no, making her way towards her quarters.

* * *

o.o.o

Miranda sat curled up in her chair, waiting for her message to send. It was early still, yet she had been up for at least an hour, unable to sleep with the nagging worry of Oriana still present in her mind. It had taken her a while to get to sleep the night before; the memory of a clearly heart-sore and slightly drunk Shepard pushing away any idea of sleep she might have had. When she had managed to finally get some rest, her dreams had been worryingly realistic: Oriana being found by her father, pulled back into a life of dynastic fulfillment. A Collector ship destroying her new home with her coworkers being swallowed up by flames. And with a rather peculiar shift, Shepard being in her quarters and confessing… something. Miranda had woken up before that dream could flesh itself out, but it was the type of dream that makes one immediately want to fall back asleep in order to find out what was going to happen.

A sound on her terminal occurred at the same time a knock on her door did. She frowned and checked the time. Still an hour before she was on duty, and there shouldn't be anyone requiring her attention yet. Unless…

"Come in."

The door hissed open and admitted Jacob. Miranda was momentarily disappointed, and slightly displeased at the intrusion. She mentally chided herself at the contradiction; clearly she allowed him in thinking, or perhaps hoping, it was someone else. She couldn't very well get upset at Jacob for calling on her when she wasn't ready.

"Morning Miranda. I thought you'd be up. I brought you a coffee." Jacob said as he set the mug down beside her terminal. She watched him scan the room, but he brought his eyes back to hers fairly quickly.

"Thank you, that's nice of you. Excuse the mess, I didn't anticipate anyone coming by this early. It's not even 0600 yet."

"Yeah, thought I'd run through the munitions checklist once more before we head off to wherever it is we're going today. I got the report back too on that Collector weapon, so I thought you'd like to know what's what."

Miranda watched Jacob for a moment, wondering why he would come by, despite what his stated reason was. He could send a report about the Collector weapon, and bringing her a coffee was unlike him.

"I appreciate that, though I'd be interested to know why you're really here." she stood up and moved towards him. She didn't want Jacob catching sight of the message she had just sent, and she hoped that her movement would push him closer to the door. She leaned against the end of her desk, making herself a living barrier between her professional life and her personal one.

"Never have been able to put anything past you." Jacob said, and she saw his guard drop. He didn't move however, and instead just put his hands behind his back. "I wanted to come by and apologize for the other day. Saying what I did… it wasn't fair of me."

"No, it wasn't." she replied simply.

"I just wanted you to know that I feel bad for saying that, and I hope it doesn't put any more distance between us than there already is."

"I appreciate the apology, Jacob, but right now we need to remember why we're all here. Bringing up old wounds and petty grudges won't destroy the Collectors." She watched him closely, and saw a twinge of hope disappear from his eyes. While she wouldn't go as far as to say they had been together, Miranda remembered a time when the possibility, and the interest, was there. For Jacob to hold on to that ideal for so long was pointless, and left Miranda feeling slightly ashamed that she hadn't put a clear enough stop to it.

"You're right. I know this is a high risk mission, and some of us might not be coming out of it. Sometimes that gets to me, you know? Gets me thinking of the old days." Jacob took a step closer as he spoke, and Miranda fought the urge to force him to take a step back. While he was still far enough away to warrant comfort, one step closer would warrant discomfort. Miranda hoped her words would be enough to get him to back off a bit.

"I understand. But I have complete trust in Commander Shepard and the Illusive Man. He wouldn't risk our lives on a whim, and he certainly wouldn't have spent as much time and credits as he did to bring Shepard back if he didn't believe in her."

The door unexpectedly opens, and she looks over to see Shepard standing in her doorway, a look of confusion quickly replaced by a look of surprise on her face. Miranda takes in the sudden tension of Shepard's muscles, clearly visible due to the amount of skin showing. Her tight running shorts and equally form fitting tank top left little to the imagination. Her hair was tied up in a hastily done pony tail, and Miranda wondered for a moment how the entire ship's worth of crew isn't falling at the Commander's feet. She looked incredible. Then she sees the look reflected in Shepard's eyes. Miranda becomes acutely aware of her current situation; she's in her pajamas, her bed unmade, clothes lying on the ground, and Jacob was standing quite close to her.

 _Say something._

"Uh, sorry about barging in like this. I would have knocked, but the door had other ideas."

Miranda knew exactly what this must look like, and tries to move away from Jacob, having to slide against him in the process. She can feel his eyes on her, and suddenly realizes that this entire situation is ridiculous. The look Shepard was directing at Jacob would make anyone else instantly burst into flame. She was clearly conflicted about something, possibly the idea of either knocking him out or running away.

"Commander, I wasn't expecting you this early." Miranda briefly tangled with the idea of explaining to Shepard what the actual situation was, but instead decided against it. It would only make matters worse, and Shepard clearly wasn't expecting an explanation. While Miranda had nothing to hide, she felt like she had just been caught in the act, and the one catching her was the one person she'd rather be in an act with. After their conversation last night, Miranda thought that maybe there was something… something tangible and possible, though completely irresponsible and unlikely. The look currently residing on Shepard's face was not one someone would have if they weren't interested. Miranda watched her scan the room, and knew that Shepard was taking everything in with a keen eye. When she finally brought her attention back to Miranda, she looked hurt.

"There was an incident with Grunt that I had to resolve, and I wanted to fill you in on it."

Her tone of voice was cold and distant, not unlike the tone of voice she used to use after initially waking up and speaking with Cerberus crew members. She felt as though in an instant, ten steps back had been taken, and Miranda had lost all ground that she had gained. Shepard was not unlike a krogan in some aspects; she was slow to trust, and would write you off if you prove to be unworthy of any trust she might place. Miranda felt a pang of loss, as though she had just broken yet another heart. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the stupidity of it all, but instead decided to return to her comfortable state of professional.

"Of course, Commander. I – "

"Don't worry about it, I'll come back later."

As quickly as she appeared, Shepard was gone again. Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly.

"What the hell was that?"

"It doesn't matter. What we should be focusing on is what exactly happened with Grunt."

"I don't think so, Miranda. I think we need to talk about the exchange I just witnessed, and the fact that you looked guilty about it."

A slight fear gripped her then. A fear of the Illusive Man's displeasure, a fear of having hurt Shepard, and a fear of having to explain to Jacob what she herself didn't understand. She turned around to face him, and noticed the look of curiosity mixed with a tinge of jealousy or disapproval. She collected herself; it was uncomfortable to not have control of a situation, and she wanted to reign it in.

"There's nothing to talk about. I don't understand what just happened. I would appreciate it if you followed up with Joker to find out what happened with Grunt." she said, her words clipped and firm as she crossed her arms in front of her. Jacob appeared as though he wanted to argue, wanted to say something to get her talking again. Miranda was relieved when he didn't, and instead he simply nodded and made his way out of the room.

She remained in the same spot for a moment, trying to organize her thoughts. She hadn't done anything wrong, and yet she felt terrible. She was a grown woman, capable of bringing someone back from the dead, and yet she felt like a child who was about to get in trouble. The realization that Shepard was clearly jealous only made things worse, and while every fibre in her being told her to withdraw to a safe distance, put her walls up and call it a day… her heart wouldn't let her. She cursed her emotions, willing herself to be less human in that moment. She tried to talk herself out of doing damage control as she got dressed, her Cerberus uniform sliding on like a second skin. Her terminal was flashing green, alerting her to the fact that she had a new message, but she disregarded it. Her heart won out over her head, and with a singular purpose, she headed off to find Shepard.


	5. In This Twilight

A/N: I think I made my own heart wrench when I wrote this. It's difficult to make your favourite people hurt, even though it does (maybe?) end eventually.

Enjoy :)

* * *

Shepard paced the length of her fish tank with her hands on her hips, unable to stop herself from feeling like she'd just been kicked in the gut. She had been reaching the point where she was going to allow herself to fall into the attraction that was clearly inevitable. Much like her lack of control regarding the Collectors and Reapers, she was unable to control her emotions. She had convinced herself that while it wouldn't amount to anything outside of maybe some smouldering looks and wild imaginings, she would just let things take their own course. But now she'd been smacked in the face with reality, and it was making her reel.

She knew that Miranda and Jacob had something at one point. She wasn't sure of the depth, but she knew it was there. Her conversations with Jacob had led her to believe it was a thing of the past, but the scenario in Miranda's cabin this morning has made her question otherwise. Miranda had clearly not been awake long if her appearance had been anything to go by. Shepard thought she'd looked beautiful; her hair still messed from sleep and the pajamas could have been a ball gown for all Shepard cared. _Or non-existent…_

But Jacob had been there, standing in front of her as though he was about to kiss her goodbye. The thought made Shepard ball her fists and clench her jaw. She took a calming breath; she was getting more worked up than she had any right to be. She hadn't told Miranda how she felt, and Miranda didn't owe her any explanation. She was an adult, and whomever she chose to spend her down time with was her business. She had made an assumption. Shepard assumed that because of the way the conversation the night before had gone, Miranda felt something similar to what she herself did. The looks she fielded from the operative were enough to let her really think about it. She hadn't been able to sleep for hours due to the intrusive, yet not at all unpleasant thoughts making their way into her consciousness.

Rational thought tried to make its way to the forefront, but Shepard wouldn't consider any of it. Instead, she started shutting down. She pushed everything away, and locked it into the box that held the contents of Torfan, Virmire and Horizon. She didn't want to deal with being hurt when there were a million more things to consider. Deciding to shower and get ready to go to Illium was going to be easier than dealing with Miranda.

"Commander?"

"What, EDI."

"Operative Lawson is requesting entrance."

 _I'm not doing this now._

"Ask her to come back later." Shepard replied quietly. The state she was in now would only produce an argument, and she had no intention of butting heads with someone equally as stubborn as she was.

There was a brief pause in which the AI relayed the message, followed by a reply with an almost apologetic tone of voice. "Commander, Operative Lawson states she would like to talk to you now."

A flash of orange caught her eye, and she watched a particularly energetic fish zip through her line of vision. She watched it for a moment as it danced around lazier fish in the tank. She closed her eyes and leaned against the cool glass, and when she opened her eyes again, she directed her attention to the door.

"Open the door EDI. And turn on your system's privacy mode for my quarters."

"Privacy mode enabled, Commander."

The door opened and Miranda stood cautiously at the entrance. The first thing Shepard noticed was that Miranda was back to wearing her normal Cerberus suit, a fact which left her slightly disappointed. But the second thing Shepard noticed about Miranda was the look of concern on her face. It was so complete that it gave Shepard pause. She expected… she wasn't sure what she expected, but it wasn't the emotion currently being projected.

"You can come in, Lawson. You wanted to speak to me?" Shepard said as she watched Miranda take the few tentative steps into the room, keeping a safe distance between them.

"Yes, though I find now that I'm here, my carefully rehearsed speech has been reduced to nothing."

"Listen, you don't owe me a speech or an explanation. If this is about whatever… that was down in your quarters, it's none of my business." Shepard pushed away from the fish tank and crossed her arms. "I shouldn't have shown up so early and I shouldn't have interrupted your morning routine."

Miranda frowned at the comment, and she mimicked Shepard's defensive pose.

"You're making an awful lot of assumptions, Commander."

"Well, sometimes things are just as they seem." Shepard said coldly. She was having a difficult time keeping the self-inflicted hurt out of her voice, and it was translating into anger. Miranda barely flinched at the accusation, her eyes searching Shepard's face for a way in past the walls that she had put up. Shepard continued, trying to ensure that her defenses held strong. "If there's nothing else, I need to change and get ready to dock at Illium."

The reaction Shepard witnessed was unexpected. Now she saw Miranda's own anger in her eyes, and she lowered her arms, her eyebrow raising in indignation. The fire Shepard saw suddenly ignite made her heart leap unpredictably.

"You're dismissing me?"

"Yeah, I've got a lot of shit to do Lawson. Like save a fucking galaxy, remember?"

"I am well aware of what your current objective is, Commander. Look, I will let you get on with saving everyone and being a big damn hero, but I want you to know before you do that, not everything is as it seems. If you're content to judge a situation strictly on your perceived assumptions – "

"Assumptions?" Shepard cut in, her voice raising slightly. "What the hell was I supposed to think? That I hadn't just walked into him leaving after you two fucked around?"

 _Shit._

The storm of emotions that had been playing out on Miranda's face suddenly disappeared. She looked calm, and Shepard thought that calm was worse than the anger. The second the words were out of her mouth she was flooded with regret. She knew a split second before she uttered them that she was placing a circumstance on Miranda that was inaccurate, yet she was powerless to stop herself from speaking. Shepard watched her for a moment, waiting to see what the reaction was going to be. Anger she could handle, but whatever was in front of her now she was less sure about.

"Even if that were the case, it would not be any of your business, Commander." Miranda's words were like ice, and she felt a chill run up her spine. Miranda looked ready to murder her, and Shepard couldn't find fault with that particular line of thought.

"Ok, this is getting out of hand." Shepard lowered her arms, taking a step towards the other woman. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that and I'm an ass for doing so. I just…"

"You 'just' what, Commander? You 'just' enjoy watching people get all riled up? You 'just' enjoy pouring salt in a wound?" Miranda accused, and Shepard saw the calm quickly eroding. Brilliant blue eyes were watching her so intently that Shepard found she was floundering, unable to actually say what she wanted to.

"No, I… I just…"

"What, Shepard?" Miranda asked insistently, her eyes expectant.

"Fuck Miranda, I have feelings for you, OK? Like an idiot, I've decided that now was a great time to become attracted to someone." Shepard's words came out in a rush as she took another step closer. "When I saw Jacob in your quarters, my mind decided that the only logical explanation was that you two are together. I got angry, and hurt, and I didn't mean to take that out on you. What I really wanted to do was ignore whatever this is…"

"But you can't." Miranda quietly supplied. Shepard noticed the shift, the temperance of anger.

"No, I can't. And I don't know what that means, or why it has to happen now of all times. I can't even get a handle on my own emotions, and I need to save every human everywhere? This is all too much." she paused for a moment, watching Miranda. To her surprise, Shepard felt her resolve slipping. She had inadvertently opened the flood gates of her emotions, and they were all beginning to surface.

"You're right. It is too much, and that's unfair to you." Miranda said gently. The look on her face was heartbreaking. "For what it's worth, there is no one else. And I'd be lying if I said the feeling wasn't mutual."

Whether it was done consciously or not, Miranda took a final step closer. Shepard didn't move back, and she watched the operative with a tangle of emotions, chief among them was desire. The desire to comfort, to know what the reciprocated passions would feel like. It was a desire that wasn't born from a carnal need for fulfillment; Shepard tried to identify what exactly it was that was tugging on her heart, but she was coming up blank. What she did know is that until she could figure herself out, she wasn't going to drag another person into the chaos that was her life.

Miranda took a step back again, as though the thing she was waiting for had passed her by. They watched each other wordlessly, trying to determine what to do with one another. Shepard was fighting a losing battle against her own better judgement. Her hands were threatening to betray her in favour of touching soft skin, or feeling the heat of Miranda's body against her own. Before she could admit defeat, Miranda took the initiative.

"I should go. I should have been on duty by now, and I need to organize repairs to the port cargo hold." she said quietly, her eyes searching Shepard's for any hint of a contradiction. When none came, Miranda pressed on. "Let me know if you require any help with the recruitments on Illium, Commander."

"I will. And I mean it. I'm sorry for acting the way I did. You didn't deserve that."

"It's alright, though I appreciate the apology." Miranda replied with a small, sad smile as she left the room.

* * *

o.o.o

A whirlwind of blue enveloped an unsuspecting merc as the biotic wreathed body crashed into him, sending him flying across the room. Shepard targeted him again, hurling a shockwave in his direction, and propelling herself into him once more. An explosion ripped through the space, pieces of the merc flying everywhere. Shepard stood above the stain that once represented a human form and tried to catch her breath. With no other hostiles in her immediate area, she looked around for Garrus and Grunt. She watched them move towards her from a surprising distance, and shifted her focus to the dozen or so bodies scattered around. Most of them were no longer intact, and Shepard felt a strange lack of empathy towards them. Killing mercs was easy, especially when they had fired first. Typically, Shepard felt something. With these ones though, Shepard felt a distinct, and troubling lack of anything.

"Ha! Did you see how far that one flew, Shepard? That was funny." Grunt said with a chuckle once they had caught up.

"Yeah, that was uh… that was something." Garrus remarked. He eyed Shepard with some level of concern, but she looked away before he could say anything else.

"Maybe now that we're done pissing around with mercs, we can actually locate that assassin. You guys need more clips, medigel?"

"I'm good Shepard. Barely got to shoot anything before you flew in and decimated everyone." Grunt replied. Shepard smiled slightly when she saw the disappointment on Grunt's face.

"Sorry big guy. Maybe next time you'll get to them before I do."

"Maybe? Not with the way you fly, Shepard. Just leave some for me next time."

"The map is showing that there's just the bridge to cross, and then we should be at the main office suite of whoever this assassin is after. Maybe that's where we'll find him." Garrus interjected, pulling up his omni-tool to take a look at the building's blueprints. Shepard signalled to move out, and the trio began moving towards the open construction zone at the top of the tower.

Shepard checked her thermal clips and ran a course of medigel through her suits system. A bullet had grazed her upper arm at the same time her shields went down during their initial push into the tower, and while the bleeding had stopped, it still hurt more than she liked. The stinging pain of the wound was different compared to how she felt on the inside. It was a sharp reminder that she wasn't invincible, and that she needed to maintain focus when guns were involved. It also served to help her keep in mind that while she felt numb, she was very much alive.

They had docked on Illium just over an hour after Miranda had left her cabin, and Shepard had wasted no time in getting off the ship. She had been looking forward to the distraction, the controlled chaos that signalled a firefight. Landing on Illium had been a surprise in itself once she had found out that Liara was there. She hadn't heard from her former crew member since waking up, and Garrus confirmed that he hadn't either. He had told her that no one from the Normandy SR-1 knew what had happened to the asari. After the life pods were recovered, Shepard was declared KIA and the Alliance took all remaining crew members to Arcturus. After that, Liara disappeared, 'as elusive as the human Spectre herself' Garrus had said.

"Shepard?" a dual toned voice cut into Shepard's musings, bringing her back to the task at hand.

"Yeah."

"Are you doing ok? I mean, I know how you feel about killing bad guys, but that back there… that was a bit much, even for you."

Shepard sighed and backed herself against a wall, checking around the corner for hostiles. Some mercs were prepping what looked like fuel canisters, but they didn't seem aware of her or her squad quite yet. Turning back to Garrus, she met his eye and let her guard drop a little.

"I've just had a bad couple of days Garrus. Kaidan is an idiot, and honestly, I'm no better."

"Kaidan will come around, Shepard. He's idealistic and loyal to a fault, and he can't really help it. But what do you mean 'you're no better?'"

The turian in front of her was the closest thing to a best friend Shepard's ever had, and she found it extremely difficult not to tell him what was going on. It wouldn't happen until they weren't surrounded by mercs though, and Shepard needed at least a full bottle of vodka before she'd be able to articulate it anyway.

"Meet me in the bar when this is over and I'll try to tell you. In the mean time, we need to get to this assassin."

* * *

o.o.o

With Garrus and Grunt having escorted Thane back to the Normandy, Shepard stood on the trading floor of Nos Astra watching the sky cars float by in the distance. The sun was setting, and the beautiful reds and oranges cast a startling view amongst the tall skyscrapers that dominated the horizon. The sun glinted off the windows and the sheer metal sides, and Shepard felt a momentary peace. She was waiting for word that she could finally see Liara, and while she waited, she mentally prepared herself. After meeting Kaidan on Horizon, Shepard figured meeting with Liara could go as poorly. The fact that she hadn't known Liara was here until they docked still left her feeling irritated. The Illusive Man was keeping her people from her, and Shepard didn't like it. She had asked him about all of her crew in their first meeting, and he had been vague in providing answers. She suspected now that it was due to the fact that he didn't want her sidetracked, or compromised in some way. As it turned out, he wasn't entirely wrong, although she doubted he anticipated Miranda being one of those distractions.

A brief message on her omni-tool with an invite to come up had her leaving the darkening sky in favour of the artificial lights of Liara's office. The hesitant smile she provided upon seeing Liara was returned, and she suddenly found herself being pulled into a hug by the beautiful asari. Stepping back, she instantly noticed that the shy, naïve archeologist from two years ago was gone. In her place stood a regal looking woman, full of confidence and assuredness. She moved with purpose, and spoke of her work with pride. Shepard watched and listened with interest, and asked her about the last two years. A shadow passed across Liara's face at the question, and she began to close up. Shepard watched the transition as though she were watching a vid; like the things Liara was telling her were from some long lost life that she never lived. The fight that ensued over Shepard's corpse, and the heartbreak that flowed from Liara's lips. The sadness and longing she heard in Liara's voice was almost too much, and she had to turn away, looking back out along the now dark horizon.

The question Shepard had been hoping not to address came next. While she hadn't wanted it to come up, a part of her was hoping that in some way she had been missed.

"What about us?"

A loaded question full of the promises of two years ago. A question that begged an answer that would set a heart at ease. Two years of mourning would be gone in an instant, or would extend towards eternity. Meeting the soft blue gaze was like being transported to a place where she was safe and content. Where her love and ideals mattered, and where her heart resided. And yet Shepard struggled with the answer. She found it difficult to say anything meaningful, anything that would give peace to one who loved her most.

"I don't know."


	6. New Love

A/N: So some of you may recognize a large portion of this chapter if you've read Forever and Ever, Amen. In that fic, this interaction between Miranda and Shepard is what spurred on my interest in writing something that was just for them. I cleaned it up quite a bit (it was embarassingly bad... thanks to you guys who read that lol) but it actually ties in quite well between the two stories. That being said, this is still technically AU.

Also, you may have noticed the name change. Sorry in advance for any confusion this may cause... it's still me, I promise. For you DA fans out there, it's a twist on Sister Nightingale. The name came about during a conversation on Aria's Afterlife, a forum here on FF. Come hang out with us if you want :)

Final piece of news: I have been beta reading a fic for a lovely author named Kallie6891. If you have a chance (and love a good Shenko fic), swing by her profile and take a read! She's much nicer to her Shepard than I am to mine ;)

/shameless promotion. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

A fight had ensued during Shepard's reunion with Liara, just as she expected it would have. Accusations flew across the room as though hurled by the biotics themselves. The most damning one had come from Liara, and the insinuation that perhaps the new crew Shepard was working with – Miranda included – had kept her old life veiled in purpose-built secrets. Shepard had little love for the Illusive Man and suspected that he had been trying to keep her focused on the mission, rather than introduce old friends and older memories. But the mention that Miranda was perhaps keeping her in the dark as well had Shepard's proverbial hackles raised in seconds. It just so happened that Shepard's quick defense of Miranda simply aided in adding fuel to the accusation fire. By the time she had left Liara's office, Shepard's mood had changed from nostalgic to pissed. She wanted answers, and knew just who to get them from.

She made her way to her ship almost at a run, and as the docking tube doors hissed open, Shepard barely managed to stop before colliding with Garrus.

"Shepard, what happened?" he asked immediately.

"Nothing." Shepard replied, though she doubted he would believe the lie. He was eyeing her up as though he were looking for flesh wounds.

"'Nothing' typically doesn't look like you just butted heads with a krogan and came out worse for wear."

"I don't want to talk about it. I need to go find Miranda."

Garrus was effectively blocking Shepard's path into the docking tube, his calm, steady presence making her skin crawl with pent up energy. She wanted to move, or punch something, and she couldn't do either.

"Look, the conversation I just had with Liara wasn't great. It left me with a lot of questions that I still don't have answers for even though I should." Shepard met Garrus' eyes and she felt a note of sadness make its way into her voice. "Not to mention the fact that one by one, I'm losing everyone I've ever been close to."

"You think Miranda will give you the answers you want?"

"She's not going to have a choice."

Garrus slowly nodded and moved aside. Shepard took the opportunity and quickly made her way through to the ship.

Walking through the CIC, Shepard noticed that half the crew have dispersed for the night, leaving only a few people at their stations. The cockpit had been dark when she passed, a clear sign that Joker was also off-duty. The creaking of her armour as she moved through the silent space echoed much louder than she was used to, and she slowed her pace to minimize the noise. Pressing the elevator button as though it was her worst enemy, she waited as anger and frustration curled around her heart.

"EDI. Where is Miranda?" Shepard managed to ask once she got into the elevator

"Operative Lawson is currently in her office on the crew deck."

"Take me there. Now."

The elevator began its slow descent, and it took every ounce of control she had to not biotically punch the control pad as it blinked happily at her.

The door finally opened to the crew deck, and she stepped out and turned towards Miranda's quarters. The operative was just coming out of her office; she made eye contact with Shepard and stopped short. The concern on Miranda's face was quickly shielded and replaced with a look Shepard hadn't seen in a while. Her features were motionless, as though she was wearing a mask of ice.

"Shepard. How did the mission..."

"Don't." Shepard interrupted in a dangerously low whisper. Tendrils of blue began misting off Shepard's armour, and the scowl she was wearing would have intimidated a krogan. Miranda straightened her back, putting her hands behind her. The body language wasn't lost on Shepard; she'd spent years honing her skills of reading people, and she knew that Miranda was either attempting to show her she wasn't afraid, or was trying to come off as unthreatening. Miranda's eyes flicked over to something behind Shepard and then icy blue meet green again. Ignoring the command, Miranda continued.

"Commander, perhaps we could have this discussion somewhere else." Shepard caught the look in Miranda's eyes, wanting to argue the statement, not wanting her course to be diverted before she lost impetus. But her situational awareness kicked in, and she recognized the reason for the request. She noted that Garrus was behind her, patiently waiting to see what she would do. There were also three Cerberus crewmembers sitting at the table in the mess hall, fidgeting in their seats and trying to look as small as possible. Just as her attention was about to be diverted back to Miranda, she caught sight of Joker as he shuffled out from where Gardner was hiding.

"Hey Shepard. Care for a cup of coffee? Seems like you might need to relax a little." he remarked flippantly as he took a sip of his coffee.

Miranda closed her eyes at the foolishness of the remark as Shepard's attention shifts to her pilot. He realized at the last minute that he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, would you care to run that by me again?" she asked as she moved to face him.

At the mention of rank, Joker straightened as best he could with a fragile body and a coffee cup in his hand.

"Ma'am respectfully, I would like to decline."

"Denied."

Joker swallowed and placed the coffee cup on the counter beside him in order to stand at attention.

"I asked if you would like a cup of coffee, as it seems you need to relax, ma'am." he said, and Shepard could see the Cerberus crew trying desperately to look like they were invisible.

"And since you've taken it upon yourself to be the go-to authority in determining my state of mind, would you mind telling me why it is you seem to think I need to relax?"

"Ma'am, respectfully I would like..."

"Denied."

Shepard could see the pleading look on his face that this conversation not happen here. So far he'd been lucky; she hadn't brought up the fact that he was the sole reason she had died, and was now facing an entirely new reality. Now, his stupid timing and ridiculous attempt at mitigating the situation had brought about a conversation neither of them wanted to have.

"Commander I... I only meant that..."

"Alright listen," Shepard interjected, taking pity on him, "you and I both know the real reason for this cluster fuck of a life I am now involved in. And if I wanted to get real petty, I could even blame you for the ridiculous situation I am finding myself in with my very close friends. I know you went through the wringer for months from both the Alliance and the Council, which is why I allow you a few concessions. But don't you ever presume to tell me how I should and should not feel given my current set of circumstances. Have I made myself clear, flight lieutenant?"

"Crystal, ma'am."

"Dismissed."

Joker saluted and hurried as fast as he could to the elevator, and Shepard turned her attention back to Miranda. She was still wearing that mask, but her eyes were betraying her. Shepard saw something in them, though she wasn't sure if it was discomfort, sympathy, or fear.

"I'll find you later." she stated, not wanting to deal with figuring it out now. She turned around, and tears finally threatened to fall. She looked up at Garrus and nodded, giving him the permission he was waiting for. He turned and walked with her towards the lounge and the alcohol.

* * *

o.o.o

Miranda watched Shepard's armoured back disappear around the corner, and she felt the looks from the Cerberus crew burning into her skin. Her initial reason for leaving her quarters had been completely derailed, and she retreated back into her sanctuary, the closing door separating her from curious eyes. She exhaled heavily and tried to block out the image of an exceedingly angry Shepard. She knew coming to Illium would prompt an interaction like that, but she had been powerless to stop it from happening. They needed to recruit more team members; Miranda couldn't brush their skills aside in favour of ensuring Shepard didn't have another event like Horizon. From the look Shepard had possessed though, Illium had been worse. The memory of Liara's pleading eyes stepped forward, from a time years ago when Miranda had met her. A casket-like box with Shepard's remains had been between them, and a cautious hope emanated off the asari. The lengths Liara had gone to in order to secure Shepard had not been lost on Miranda, but at the time she paid it no mind. Now though, questions started to surface.

"Operative Lawson?" EDI's voice interrupted her before she had a chance to open an extranet search.

"Yes?"

"Doctor Solus has requested to speak with you in the science lab."

"Is it urgent? I have a lot to do."

"He originally asked to speak to Commander Shepard, however when I informed her of this, she told me to f-"

"Alright." Miranda said quickly. "I can imagine what she told you. Put it in the logs that Shepard is off-duty for the time being. I'll go see Mordin."

"Yes, Operative Lawson."

In a bizarre twist, Miranda found herself completing Shepard's rounds that evening. After Mordin had finished telling her of a lost scientist on Tuchanka, EDI seemed to have taken it upon herself to provide Miranda with more requests for meetings with the crew. Most of the issues had surfaced recently and would need approval to complete, but Miranda found that she enjoyed spending time with Shepard's squad. Conversations were quiet and reflective with Samara and Thane, and full of gossip with Kasumi. Grunt and Zaeed just wanted to tell her about every war story they could think of, with Zaeed's eyes drifting away from Miranda's face more than once. She avoided Jack as though she had the plague, not wanting to tear hole in the hull or accidentally kill the woman.

By the time she made it to the cockpit, she had an entirely new appreciation for the people she was working with. Being closed off in her office all of the time hadn't allowed her to properly introduce herself or meet any of the crew being recruited. Kasumi had been the only one to consistently invade Miranda's personal space, and she found the master thief quite endearing. Chatty and alarmingly well informed, but endearing. The nervousness and tension created by her run in with Shepard was almost gone, though part of her still wished they hadn't come to Illium at all.

"I didn't think you knew where the cockpit was." Joker supplied sarcastically as Miranda approached.

"I've actually spent quite some time in here. Setting EDI up was no small task."

Joker didn't provide a reply, and instead turned his chair around to face her. She knew the pilot better than he would have liked, though she doubted he knew that. During their recruitment of him, she had done an extensive background check. While he was unfailingly loyal to both the ship's crew and Shepard, Miranda had been surprised that he hadn't been court martialed for a plethora of things the Alliance typically doesn't look fondly on. They overlooked him stealing the Normandy and locking her previous pilot in a closet, but came down hard on him for trying to save the SR-1 before she went down. Miranda suspected he had been an exemplary scapegoat for Shepard's death; with their beloved asset dead, someone had to take the heat for it.

"Did you need something Miranda, or are you just here to learn how to press one hundred and ten different buttons?"

"I just thought I'd stop by for a status report."

"That's it?"

"Yes. Unless there's something else you'd prefer to talk about." Miranda said, a curious frown forming on her face. She crossed her arms in front of her and watched the tension leave Joker's body.

"No no, just making sure. We uh… don't exactly know each other that well, and I didn't want you to get all soft and weird about that… thing in the mess hall."

"It's none of my business, Mr. Moreau." Miranda's stomach flipped at the memory. Shepard's eyes haunted and hurt, with a thousand questions unanswered. The silent look of disdain from Garrus, and the anxious discomfort from Joker, emotions all playing out within a heartbeat at the eye of a storm.

"Good. Glad we've got that settled. So, status report: literally nothing new. Still docked at Illium, still wishing I didn't have brittle bones so that maybe I could actually go out and enjoy Illium. Well, the asari part of Illium anyways…" a far off, wistful look crossed Joker's face and Miranda rolls her eyes.

"The ship, Mr. Moreau?"

"Right. The ship is fine, and no one is reporting anything out of the ordinary."

"Good. Thank you for your time."

"Uh, hey… before you go." Joker said as Miranda was about to turn and leave. Facing him again, she noticed the distinct discomfort written all over him. "Scuttlebutt has been going wild lately, and while I don't usually care about it… well, this one I care about. If this were the Alliance I wouldn't even mention it, but since it's not…"

"What is it, Mr. Moreau?" Miranda asked impatiently. A sneaking feeling started creeping around in her stomach, coupled with the desire to shut this train of thought down.

"Shepard's a mess right now. And I get that it's my fault, but it still sucks to see it. Whatever is going on…" Joker pauses for a moment, fixing Miranda with a look that she instantly picks up on. "Just make sure she doesn't get hurt."

"Noted."

* * *

o.o.o

Hours later, and Miranda was sitting at her desk finalizing a report on the recruitment of Thane. She checked the time on her terminal; already hours late and she was only just now getting it sent. With sleep tantalizingly close, she hit send on the report. An exhausted sigh escaped her lips as she pinned an errant piece of hair back into its clip. Turning off the desk lamp, she stood with the intention of heading towards her bed, when her door chimes with a requested entry.

"EDI, who is it?"

"Commander Shepard."

She hadn't expected to deal with the fallout of earlier this soon, and the memory of how angry Shepard had been was still fresh. As painful as it was to watch, Shepard's anger at the events on Illium had been neatly diverted from her to Joker, mostly due to the pilot's inability to keep his mouth shut. Realizing though that the source of that anger was now at her door had Miranda on edge again.

"Open the door please EDI."

Shepard hesitantly stepped inside Miranda's office once the door quietly opened. She scanned the room quickly, the desire to do so no doubt spurred on from the last time she had been in the room. Her eyes land on Miranda but she quickly looked away again.

"Sorry, I didn't think you'd be… not dressed." Shepard stated, a splash of red colouring her cheeks. Miranda wasn't sure if the colour was a result of the alcohol she could smell, or the fact that she was only wearing a tank top and pajama pants.

"It's all right. I didn't think you'd be coming here at 0200, so I suppose we're both unknowns." She replied, her tone softening. There was no anger left in the woman standing at her doorway, just something that closely resembled remorse.

Shepard smiled slightly and caught Miranda's eye. "Look, I just wanted to apologize for before. I was really fucking pissed off, and the only one I could think to blame was you. Joker only half deserved what he got, but you didn't deserve that at all."

Miranda tilted her head to the side, half smiling at the admission. The entire day had been one disaster after another for Shepard, and here she was apologizing.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Shepard asked cautiously.

Miranda walked out from behind her desk and approached Shepard. She noticed the tension in Shepard's muscles when she made the unexpected movement, but she continued to keep eye contact with her as she moved closer. Miranda stopped within reach, but kept her arms crossed. A very clear line had been drawn in the sand this morning, and she wanted to remain on her side of it.

"You've been through a lot." she started quietly, watching Shepard's eyes move from her eyes to her mouth and back again. "You don't need to apologize for being angry. Your entire life was blown up; you can't expect to just walk away from that unscathed."

"I didn't. Remember how you spent two years rebuilding me? Because I died?" came the sarcastic reply.

"I do. But I meant mentally, emotionally. I'm sorry I couldn't stop this from happening. After what happened on Horizon… I didn't want you to have to go through that again." Miranda replied, and she found she couldn't hide the sadness in her voice. She looked down to avoid Shepard's gaze. She wasn't the one being emotionally tossed around, and Shepard certainly didn't need her remorse added on. The thought of stepping back to allow for space was blown out the airlock in a heartbeat; gentle fingers were on her chin, raising her head up to make eye contact once more.

"Hey, you don't need to apologize for that. What you did, what you gave me back, I can never repay. The fact that I need to deal with my own fucked up emotions is not a reflection of you. Kaidan, Liara, Anderson… they are not your fault."

Miranda closed her eyes, and caught the scent of whiskey on Shepard's breath. Her exhaustion and the proximity was making it hard for her to focus on anything other than the feel of Shepard's hand on her chin, the warmth emanating from her, and what those lips would taste like. She tried to push the thoughts aside, tried to slow her heart rate and return to the conversation, but suddenly Shepard's thumb was moving along her jawline, tender fingers moving towards the back of her neck.

She opened her eyes and watched a puzzled look cross Shepard's features, her brilliant green eyes reflecting something Miranda hadn't seen before; a decision being pondered, or consequences weighed. She could feel her heart rate doing the opposite of calming down, and worked to stop the subtle desire from pushing out reality. She wanted to uncross her arms and just feel, but she was afraid to move. She didn't want to push, but she didn't want Shepard to change her mind. Old tactics – unfair, though reliable – were the only tools Miranda had at her disposal. As though she were playing chess, she makes a decision.

She gently bit her lower lip and raised an eyebrow. The move was not lost on Shepard, and a breath hitched in her throat as her eyes roamed along Miranda's face. She realized she wasn't exactly playing fair; Shepard was emotionally exhausted and had been drinking with Garrus, which meant that she had been drinking quite a bit. She was in the process of second guessing herself, but it was Shepard's turn to move a chess piece. The hand that had been ghosting along her jaw was undoing the clip holding up her hair, and as Miranda's hair tumbled down, Shepard twined her fingers through it and pulled Miranda closer. She slowly uncrossed her arms and placed tentative hands on Shepard's stomach. The shiver that went through Shepard's body was instantaneous.

The feel of Shepard's stomach under her hands made her want to know more, and made her wish there was less clothing in the way. The hand on her own hip pulled her in even farther, and at the contact, she exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Shepard hesitated as if contemplating something, but appeared to have made up her mind; in an instant, Miranda found out what it would feel like to have Shepard's lips meet her own. It was gentle, and soft, and not at all what Miranda wanted it to be. She wanted harder, and rougher. She wanted more. She curled her arms around Shepard's torso, finding skin underneath her hoodie as her tongue moved to find Shepard's. The taste of whiskey and heat paired with the sound of a subtle moan from Shepard sent Miranda's head spinning as she deepened the kiss. Shepard grabbed another fistful of hair, pulling Miranda's head back and breaking the contact. Miranda forced herself to come back to the present, and not what five minutes down the road would look like. She frowned with confusion at the sudden stop, but the look reflected in Shepard's eyes provided her with understanding.

"God, Miranda, I shouldn't have done that. I wanted to… I want to… but I can't… I shouldn't assume." Shepard stuttered as she released her hand from Miranda's hair, a look of regret hiding in her eyes.

"No, you didn't assume. I'm sorry, I shouldn't crossed that line." Miranda replied. Control came back slowly as she slid her hands away from the soft heat of Shepard's back, taking a small step backwards.

"I like your hair better like this." Shepard said after a moment, as she brushed a lock of hair away from Miranda's face. The sadness was evident in her voice, and it almost broke Miranda's heart.

"I should go."

"You can stay. If you want."


	7. Drifting

A/N: Well hello there! Sorry this chapter took so long... the last two weeks has been less than awesome for good ol' Sister Magpie. I feel this chapter isn't quite as good as it could have been, but I've been really struggling lately, so this is kind of my 'I need to start writing again even if it sucks' chapter. As always, feedback is welcome.

* * *

Shepard sat on a bed in the medbay, her feet dangling a few inches above the floor. She let out a frustrated sigh as she cradled her arm, a steady drip of blood falling onto the crisp white sheets. The medigel was wearing off, and the ache of the gunshot wound was making her clench her jaw in an attempt to ward off the pain. She was certain that Illium was just cursed, and she felt a slight happiness at the thought that she'd never have to set foot on Nos Astra again. She had her assassin and her Justicar, leaving no other reason to stay on the planet. The doors opened quietly, and Doctor Chakwas' entrance stopped the morose line of thinking.

"Commander. It's rare that you're here before me," Chakwas started, and Shepard saw her eyes sweep critically over her armoured form, "Usually by this point I've got three marines and a krogan searching for you."

"Yeah well, thought I'd save you the trouble."

Chakwas grinned amiably as she entered a command into the nearest terminal. A VI program began helpfully providing information pulled directly from Shepard's suit diagnostics. Chakwas listened intently as she unclasped the snaps on Shepard's chest piece and shoulder guards, frowning slightly when the VI provided a string of information that Shepard didn't understand. The whole process was almost a routine, though Shepard smiled at the recollection of Chakwas' statement; usually it took a lot more convincing in order for her to find her way down to the medbay. Kelly had gasped with horror when Shepard tried to make it to the armoury, and a look behind her at the blood trail had her realizing why her yeoman looked two shades paler than normal. Shepard had almost found it funny, but it had been enough to make her decide to head to the medbay instead.

"So, it appears as though you still have the remnants of an incendiary projectile lodged into your scapula. Fortunately for you, that particular part of you is made from a titanium alloy laced with cybernetics to enhance muscle flexibility."

"I don't know how that makes me fortunate. What it does is make me sound like a robot." Shepard replied with a frown. She knew, of course, that she had been rebuilt. But she hadn't let herself think of the extent of that rebuild. Knowing that she had a shoulder blade made of the same stuff as her gun didn't make her feel any better.

"From a medical standpoint it makes you fortunate. No bone means no bone to shatter. The bleeding is coming from muscle and skin. I'll have you right as rain in no time, Commander. Though I will have to consult with Miranda on those cybernetics."

Shepard's stomach lurched at the mention of Miranda. Regret and doubt burrowed their way back in to her conscious mind and she turned her head away in an attempt to hide the look that had most likely crept onto her face. Glancing into the mess hall didn't help; Miranda was standing beside one of the tables, her posture relaxed and her hands moving to accentuate the words she was speaking. One of the Cerberus crew was intently focused on their conversation and he leaned against the table casually. Miranda's back was facing the window, and Shepard let her eyes roam for a moment before closing them. _Her hands on my stomach, hesitant, cautious. Her hair tangled in my fingers feels like silk. Her eyes are wary, inviting, curious. A shade of blue I haven't seen before. Dark and dangerous, daggers hidden in the depths. She is soft and yielding and her lips taste like fire. Her body against mine makes my heart race. But then I'm sorry and I'm moving away. I don't want to hurt her. I can stay if I want. But I can't._

"Commander?"

Shepard opened her eyes at the interruption, her attention diverting back to Chakwas. The doctor was too perceptive, and Shepard noticed that her eyes were moving between Miranda and herself. Thankfully Chakwas' professionalism tended to take precedence. Most of the time.

"I'm going to need to remove the projectile and close the entry wound. I would also like Miranda to check the scan of the cybernetics," Chakwas said as she rested a hand on Shepard's knee.

"You're going to knock me out, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Have I ever told you I don't like doctors?"

"Don't be such a grouch," Chakwas replied with a small smile, clearly finding Shepard's petulance amusing, "This will give you a chance to actually get some rest. Once I'm done, you'll need a few days to recover before you're back out there getting shot at again."

"It seems to be a thing people enjoy doing."

"You do make an irresistible target."

"I guess I do."

* * *

o.o.o

The soft hum of the Normandy and the gentle beeping of medical equipment were the first things Shepard noticed once she had begun to wake up. Her eyes focused quickly once she opened them, something that she assumed was due to the fact that they weren't completely organic. Moving her right arm took a slight effort, but she was pleased to notice that she wasn't hooked up to anything. She hated the feeling of the IV needle taped to her hand; the itchy feeling was always combined with Chakwas' insistence that it remain, followed by Shepard removing it anyways. She sat up slowly, resting her weight on her elbow, trying to ignore that her left arm felt like it was made of lead. It was bandaged tightly and placed in a sling, the arm held fast against her with a band of gauze wrapped around her torso. It was then that Shepard realized Chakwas had left her in only her sports bra. She lifted the blanket up quickly, a sigh of relief escaping her once she saw that she was at least wearing pants. While she was in no way self conscious, she didn't want everyone on the ship seeing her walk back to her quarters almost entirely naked.

The next thing she noticed was that she was alone. Chakwas was usually bustling around, prepping something for whoever would need her attention next. While Shepard herself took the trophy for 'most wounds on any given day', there was always something that Chakwas needed to do. To have the medbay be empty of her felt bizarre. But without Chakwas around to say otherwise, it meant she could sneak out.

"Joker?" Shepard called out hoping her pilot would pick up the comm.

"Mr. Moreau has found a bunk for the night, Commander. Do you require assistance?" EDI responded immediately.

"What time is it?" Shepard asked. She attempted to sit up further, but a wave of dizziness forced her to lay back down. _So much for my escape._

"Current ship time is approximately 2300 hours. Commander, I would advise against sitting up. The anesthesia is still present in your system. Would you like me to call Doctor Chakwas?"

"No. I'm fine. I'm surprised she left me. She likes to stick around and wait for me to do something I shouldn't."

"Doctor Chakwas has also found a bunk for the night. We assured her that we would monitor your vitals and notify her of any change."

"We?"

"Yes. Operative Lawson is currently in the science lab working on your damaged cybernetics with Doctor Solus. She will be returning momentarily, and will be able to give you information on your current status."

Shepard closed her eyes and settled herself farther into the pillows. The fact that Miranda was working on replacement cybernetics meant that her injury was worse than she thought. Her barriers had been dangerously close to failing before she charged into the fray, and the bullet must have found its mark in the split second before they had a chance to renew. She had felt the impact and knew immediately that she had either been hit by a charging krogan, or a merc had lucked out and found a way through her armour. Now she had to explain it to the one person she wasn't sure she had the strength to be around. She knew it wasn't real, but she swore she could still feel the heat of Miranda's hands on her stomach, and the look of regret in Miranda's eyes when she had started to apologize.

She shook her head to evict the memory. The sound of the doors opening caught her attention, and she rolled her head to the side to watch Miranda walk in. The operative hadn't looked up upon entrance, and was engrossed in the data pad she held. Shepard was catching Miranda in a state of vulnerability more often than she ever expected; it was a state which Miranda tried hard not to show anyone, yet Shepard was finding herself in situations almost daily that showed Miranda with a lowered guard. Shepard saw the exhaustion on Miranda's face, stress causing her to knit her brows together. She was wearing black pants and a grey shawl that she had wrapped tightly around herself as though she was cold. She was clearly worried about whatever it was that she was reading, and Shepard felt a pang of guilt that she was the probable cause of that worry. While she normally didn't put much thought into her own personal safety, she tended to try and avoid getting shot to death when there was someone worrying over her.

"Come here often?" Shepard asked casually, wanting to see the frown on Miranda's face disappear. She was rewarded with a quick look and a small smile.

"I try not to, though you seem to be quite fond of it here." Miranda replied. Shepard noticed the arch of Miranda's eyebrow raise elegantly, and she couldn't help but quirk a smile. Miranda approached the medical terminal closest to the bed and pressed a button. Shepard felt a cold wave rush through her arm, and almost immediately the sharp ache in her shoulder abated.

"Son of a bitch. She put the IV under the bandages, didn't she?" Shepard asked in mock affront. She was having a hard time feeling any form of resentment. The cocktail of pain medication and antibiotics flooding her system was having a wonderfully calming effect.

"She did. She had mentioned that you weren't fond of being a pin cushion, and preferred to take the IV out when you saw fit. She didn't want me having any trouble with you," Miranda paused as she entered in a series of commands on the terminal, "though I suspect if I asked you to do something, you'd listen." Shepard caught the sidelong glance Miranda provided before the operative turned her attention back to the terminal.

"Are you flirting with me, Lawson?"

"Just stating a fact, Commander."

Shepard watched her for a moment. She watched the delicate fingers making decisive movements on the keyboard, and the way Miranda's hair moved when she looked to the data pad at her side. She followed the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in and out, and the way she chewed at her lower lip as though she was contemplating something. _Her hands on my stomach, hesitant, cautious. Her hair tangled in my fingers feels like silk. Her eyes are wary, inviting, curious. A shade of blue I haven't seen before. Her lips taste like fire._

"I would only fuck it up." Shepard whispered, so quiet she wasn't even sure she had spoken the words. She closed her eyes; the pain medication was causing her to feel drowsy, as well as the confusing feeling of needing to say something, but also of being unsure of what words would be right. When she opened her eyes again, Miranda was facing her, arms crossed against her chest.

"Are you alright Shepard?"

"I think so. But you'd probably know better."

"I could go on about all the medical details, but instead I'll just tell you what you want to know," Miranda provided with a smile, "You need another surgery tomorrow to put the cybernetics back in place, then two or three days of off-duty time."

"And then?"

"And then you go back to doing what you do best."

Shepard closed her eyes and exhaled. She didn't want to go back to that yet. She wanted peace and quiet, she wanted to rest. She wanted to be normal and not have half her body made of synthetic materials. She wanted her friends to trust her again, to have them by her side. She wanted the confusion of her new life to disappear. She wanted…

"Miranda."

Shepard opened her eyes and caught the blue ones staring back at her. She hadn't meant to say her name, and the suddenness of it had clearly caught Miranda off guard as well. She had a puzzled look on her face and one hand still rested on the blanket she was in the process of pulling up. Miranda slowly moved her hand away, and Shepard wished that she had the dexterity to grab hold of it, to stop her from pulling away entirely. She wanted to ask Miranda to stay so that she could have something other than anger and frustration as a companion. But the exhaustion emanating from the other woman was apparent, and Shepard knew it would be selfish to ask. She felt the insistent pull of the chemicals flooding her system, gently urging her towards sleep. _Her body against mine makes my heart race. But then I'm sorry and I'm moving away. I don't want to hurt her. I can stay if I want. But I can't._

"I just wanted to say thank you. Y'know, for fixing me again." Shepard said, pushing down the words that were right but that she was too scared to say.

"You're welcome. You're all set up for the night, and EDI is on observation duty. Doctor Chakwas should be back in a couple hours, though I suspect you'll be out in a few moments."

"Yeah. Probably." Shepard replied as she closed her eyes and finally allowed herself to fall.


	8. Queen of Spades

Hey, I made you guys a new chapter! It's been a while, so I thought I'd start with something you've probably all been waiting for. You're welcome.

Ah! I almost forgot. I've written some DA:I stuff. Go read that if you like me/Dragon Age! Also, I recently became beta to a lovely author who also writes DA:I. But way better than me. Seriously. Go read that before you read my stuff. Check out The Rogue of Dragonstone. You won't be disappointed.

Enjoy ;)

* * *

"Well, I believe that round goes to us."

"Oh come on! I swear, you two cheat or something."

"How can we? We're sitting on opposite sides of the table."

"I don't know… space magic," Joker replied with a pout. He looked across the table at Garrus as if requesting backup, but the turian merely shrugged.

Shepard raised an eyebrow, glancing skeptically at Joker, "Space magic? We cheat because space magic."

"Sounds about right to me, Shepard," Miranda chimed in sarcastically. Shepard caught her eyes and smirked.

"Well then, you lost because of space magic. Sorry Joker."

Joker rolled his eyes and pushed himself up from his chair, mumbling something about horseshoes and asses as he hobbled out of the room. Shepard laughed and absentmindedly rubbed at her shoulder. Her cybernetic repair had gone smoothly, and she had spent the last few days getting used to the fact that she was confined to the ship. She spent her first day of rest pacing the ship like a caged tiger, picking fights with the ones who could handle it, and glaring at the ones who couldn't. By the end of her second day of doing nothing but reports and meeting with her crew, she started to feel a bit more comfortable with the downtime, though she had spent some time pacing before retreating to her quarters. By the third day, her reports were finished and there was little else to do but actually spend time with the people she worked with. She had taught some of her crew how to play a card game she had learned from Kaidan; some weird, Canadian game that she enjoyed playing on the Normandy SR-1. Miranda had taken to it immediately, and played as though she was born doing so. This surprised no one, and Shepard ensured her and Miranda were always on the same team.

Since the night that she had inadvertently added logs to a smouldering fire by kissing Miranda, she had kept a respectful distance. She didn't want to; she wanted to spend every waking – and sleeping – moment with the woman. She knew the decision hurt Miranda. She could see it in her eyes every time an opportunity to be alone was bypassed because Shepard didn't know if she could stop herself from touching the woman. Miranda didn't push it, and she too kept her distance, though distance, much like absence, made the heart grow fonder.

"Now that I've lost my week's wages, I think I'll be heading off to calibrate something. Makes me feel better about losing so horribly," Garrus said, cutting into Shepard's thoughts.

"That's all Cerberus pays you? Damn, Garrus," Shepard replied with a low whistle as she scooped up the credit chit laying on the table.

"Cerberus? You think I'm on a pro-humanist group's payroll? Nah, I get discreet credit drops from a company called 'Ergonomix'. Apparently they make high quality office chairs," Garrus provided with a raise of his brow plates, sarcasm carrying every word.

"I'm going to assume that everyone else 'works' for the same company?" Shepard asked, moving her gaze to Miranda.

"Not everyone."

"So at the end of the day, the Illusive Man can tell his Terra Firma backers that he has never employed aliens? And here I thought he was warming up to other species," Shepard smirked and took a pull from her beer bottle. Miranda shrugged, not wanting to comment as it was clearly not her decision. Shepard, though distant, had gotten to know Miranda a bit better over the last few days. Other than Chakwas, Miranda was the only one she saw regularly, on a set schedule no less. No one wanted to take any chances with the newly implanted cybernetics. This meant though that she was having an easier time of reading the woman's emotions. Shepard had yet to establish if this was simply due to the fact that she was paying closer attention, or if Miranda was letting her see the emotions instead.

"Well, either way, I don't think I'll spread it around much either. The Heirarchy wouldn't be too pleased," Garrus said as he stood up from the table, walking towards the door, "although I never was a very good turian." He provided a wave as the door hissed shut behind him.

Shepard's attention turned towards Miranda, who was quietly sorting the cards back into their own decks. Shepard watched her hands for a moment, the long fingers placing cards into two piles. She felt a knot form in her stomach as thoughts of what those hands might do crept into her mind. The effort of constantly pushing aside the images her mind conjured up made her exhausted, which was part of the reason she tried to stay away from Miranda, unless medical necessity came up. Though now that she was alone and in close proximity, Shepard suspected that distance had only made her imagination run more wild.

"EDI, lock the door. Bar entry."

Shepard's eyes shot to Miranda's face at the statement, finding that blue eyes were staring right back at her.

"Yes, Operative Lawson."

Shepard scanned her face, trying to find a hint of reasoning. The knot in her stomach grew bigger; she could either be facing the conversation she had been avoiding, or something that could land at least one of them in a lot of trouble. Miranda's expression softened slightly, and she pushed the cards aside, folding her hands on the table in front of her. Shepard was now sure she was going to initiate the conversation she had been avoiding.

"Are you ready to talk to me?" Miranda asked after a few moments of them watching each other.

"About what?"

"About that kiss the other night."

"Is there something that needs to be said?" Miranda cocked an eyebrow at the question, and Shepard sighed, "Well, this is off to a great start. I've already put my foot in my mouth."

"I figured that since you have been all but ignoring me since then, that you're holding some regret about it. I understand if that's the case, and I apologize. I shouldn't have made my interest so obvious, especially when you have more important things to handle."

Shepard stared at Miranda as she listened to the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. Miranda was blaming herself for Shepard running away like a scared shit.

"Obvious? Miranda, I crossed a line. You hadn't made anything clear, and that's why I stopped. Why are you apologizing for this? God, have you thought of it this way since it happened?"

"I… I didn't know how else to feel about it. You left so suddenly, and…"

"Miranda, I had to leave. Not because it felt wrong, but because it felt right. Kissing you felt like the most natural thing in the world. My skin burned for days where you touched me. I felt like I was going through fucking withdrawals, and all this after one kiss," Shepard's eyes searched Miranda's, but the woman diverted hers once their gaze met, toying with the edge of a card that had been left behind.

"Then why – "

"Because I'm a damn coward, Miranda," Shepard cut in, tears of frustration burning her eyes, "Because I can't wrap my head around the fact that I'm alive, and that even if I've lost a couple, I still have friends. I can't get over the fact that I'm not with the Alliance. I can't just move on. And because of all that, I'm scared to bring anyone else in. I should be creating a new life, but I'm still fucking stuck in the old one. How would that be fair to anyone, least of all you?"

Shepard paused, slowly closing her eyes to bring back her self-control. She was dangerously close to slipping, to admitting that Miranda meant more to her than she dared say out loud. It was all too fast, and uncertain. There were too many repercussions. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes once more. Miranda had been watching her, and she felt the small amount of composure she had gained back slowly slip through her fingers once more. The blue eyes looking back at her were too much, and she knew if she kept staring, she'd be lost. Miranda turned her attention back to the card she had been nervously playing with. She flipped it over and smirked, exhaling quickly as though she found something amusing.

"The Queen of Spades," Miranda supplied, moving the card to the centre of the table, "Isn't that what this game is called?" she asked rhetorically. Shepard looked down at the worn card, but Miranda's movement caught her eye again. She stood up from her side of the table and walked towards Shepard, maintaining eye contact as she came to her side. She placed a hand on the back of the chair, and Shepard's quizzical expression turned to swift understanding as Miranda straddled herself across Shepard's lap.

"Fuck." Shepard's statement came out with a rush of air as her hands instinctively moved to Miranda's waist, keeping their eyes locked. The heat emanating from the woman on top of her, combined with the scent of her, was intoxicating. She watched Miranda bite her lower lip as if she was unsure and doubting. Shepard made up her mind in that moment, and she slowly raised her hand to cup Miranda's cheek, running her thumb along her cheekbone. Miranda flushed at the contact, and Shepard exhaled a short breath at the look on Miranda's face. Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes scanned Shepard's face, seeking an answer to her silent question.

"I can't promise much," Shepard said quietly, her hand trailing to rest on Miranda's neck, "but I promise you that I want to try." Relief crossed Miranda's face at the words, and Shepard ran her thumb along Miranda's bottom lip. She inched her hand towards the back of Miranda's head, her fingers catching the dark brown strands as Miranda moved her own hands to cup Shepard's face. The look in Miranda's eyes at that moment sent shivers down Shepard's spine, and the hand still on her waist tightened its hold.

"Kiss me." Miranda ordered in a whisper. Shepard didn't hesitate before pulling Miranda's head closer, their lips making contact for the second time. It was soft and tentative, and Miranda ran her tongue lightly against Shepard's as though she were testing the waters. Shepard preferred just taking the plunge, and she deepened their kiss, gently nipping Miranda's lower lip. The sound that the action elicited from Miranda made her head spin, and she couldn't help her own groan as they broke the kiss to breathe.

The break lasted mere seconds before her mouth was on Shepard's again, exploring with their tongues and their hands. Shepard moved both of hers to Miranda's waist again, resting them against her lower back and pressing her inwards. The action made her grind her hips, and she felt Shepard tremble in response. She lightly sucked on the tongue that was toying with her own, and a low groan escaped the woman beneath her as Miranda came up for air. Miranda wanted more though. The green eyes staring up at her were burning, and Miranda slid her hands down to press against Shepard's collarbone. She felt the heart below racing, almost in time with her own. She trailed her hands down Shepard's arms, slowly moving her hips as she did so. As expected, Shepard's attention was diverted to the movement of her hips, her hands moving further down to grasp Miranda's ass as she bit her lower lip. Miranda moved from Shepard's arms to grab at the hem of her tank top, lifting it off in one swift movement. As she threw it to the floor, she was convinced she felt Shepard stop breathing. Watching the other woman's face, she smiled slightly at the look Shepard was reflecting back. Her eyes trailed up Miranda's stomach, to her breasts, and finally to her face. Miranda could feel the heat from her cheeks travelling in the reverse direction, slowly creeping down to her chest.

"You're beautiful," Shepard managed, swallowing hard at the sight of the expanse of beautiful skin in front of her. She trailed her hands up Miranda's waist, feeling goosebumps at the contact. Her skin felt like silk underneath her hands, and she watched Miranda's face intently. Her eyes closed once Shepard reached her ribs, feeling the breath that she took in as her ribs expanded, drawing Shepard's attention to Miranda's still-covered breasts. While she appreciated the black lace, it was currently in her way. She decided to eliminate the barrier and unclasped the bra. Miranda raised an eyebrow as she looked down, but did not protest. She slid the garment off, and it went the same way the previous article of clothing had.

"That's better," Shepard breathed. One hand remained on Miranda's ribs, but the other traced a line to the underside of Miranda's breast, and then slowly upwards to fully encompass the soft mound of flesh. She felt the hard peak rubbing against her palm, and she moved her hand aside and leaned forward, covering it with her mouth. Miranda cried out at the contact, her nails digging in to the fabric covering Shepard's shoulders. With a sharp noise of released suction, Shepard pulled her head back, searching once more for Miranda's mouth. The kiss was like fire, scorching them both with the combined heat of it. Shepard reached down to cup Miranda's ass again, this time lifting her up and placing her on her back on the table. The contact caused poker chips to rattle, and the remains of Shepard's beer to topple to the floor. Neither woman noticed as their kiss deepened, and Shepard placed a knee on the table to gain leverage. Miranda lifted a leg to hook it around Shepard's own, trying to find skin beneath her clothing. With a frustrated growl, Shepard broke their kiss, moving herself enough to allow Miranda to pull her shirt up over her head, followed quickly by her sports bra.

Now it was Miranda's turn to marvel. Her breath hitched in her throat as she saw the flex and ripple of each muscle that Shepard was using to keep her balance. Her arms were rigid, holding her body up over Miranda, but her chest and stomach moved with each frantic breath. Miranda couldn't resist, and ran her hand from Shepard's shoulder, across her breast, and down the flat plane of her stomach. Her eyes followed her hand, and she caught sight of Shepard's hip bones positioned in such a way that if contact were made, Miranda might forget her own name. She looked back into Shepard's eyes and saw the hot desire simmering below the surface, and she had no doubt that it mirrored her own. Her hands raked back up towards Shepard's shoulders, and she shuddered at the look the motion caused.

"I need you," Miranda gasped as Shepard leaned down to kiss her throat, her neck, her jaw. The contact of skin on her own made her muscles tighten, a warmth spreading through her belly with each kiss. Miranda couldn't help but buck her hips upward, searching for the contact that her body now demanded. Shepard feigned ignorance, and continued placing hot kisses along her collarbone and up to her ear.

"Not here," Shepard said, her voice husky. The sound sent shivers down Miranda's spine, and a brief noise of disappointment as Shepard leaned up, "EDI, is anyone in the mess hall?"

"No, Commander."

Shepard looked down at Miranda; her face was flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her half lidded eyes almost made Shepard change her mind about moving at all, but she was damn certain she couldn't fuck Miranda all night on this table.

"Shepard, please…"

"Ok, don't do that. Come on." Shepard slid off the table, pulling Miranda with her. Handing her the discarded clothes, she pushed Miranda out the door with the intent to follow close behind, but not before turning to grab the Queen of Spades off the table.


	9. All New, Faded For Her

A/N: Welcome back! I'm sure you remember where we left off, so I'll just leave a warning and let you get on it with: this chapter is an example of why this story is rated M.

Enjoy!

* * *

Before the elevator door had a chance to fully close, Shepard had Miranda pressed up against the cool metal. Their bodies made contact with a rush of exhaled air before their lips met and burned into each other as tongues teased and tasted. Shepard had one hand firmly planted beside Miranda's head, the other ran down the length of her body, dipping below the waist line of her pants to grab the soft flesh around her hip. Miranda ran her hands up Shepard's back, feeling the vanguard's taught muscles as she pushed herself into Shepard, wanting more skin on her own. She pulled the elastic holding Shepard's hair back, and felt the dark mass tumble against her hand. She grabbed a fistful and pulled gently, forcing the kiss to end as she made eye contact with the woman pressed against her. Her eyes grabbed at every detail on Shepard's face; her pale cheeks were flushed, her lips were parted and promising more. The quick drumming of the heart beat at the hollow of her neck was enticing, and Miranda leaned down to kiss and lick at the spot.

"I usually hate the fact that this elevator is so slow," Shepard said as Miranda pulled her hair again, exposing more of her neck to the attention of her lips.

"You need more patience, Commander," Miranda replied, pulling Shepard closer with her free hand. Shepard shuddered at the words and the tone behind them. She actually found herself mildly disappointed when she heard the elevator doors slide open, but the disappointment was quickly replaced with an increased need to touch and taste more of Miranda.

The clothes that were dropped again were retrieved, and Shepard moved ahead of Miranda towards her cabin. The doors opened automatically, and before Shepard had a chance to turn around, she felt a hand slide across her stomach, a kiss against her now-healing shoulder blade, and another hand rest on her hip. She gasped at the contact, the feel of hot lips against a still tender scar, roving fingers doing their best to make her forget everything except for her and Miranda, and hot skin pressed against her bare back. The hand on her stomach moved lower, past the elastic of her pants, and at the same time that she felt a bite on the skin at her neck, fingers rolled lightly over the hard nub that was hidden in soft folds.

"Fuck," Shepard ground out as her arm moved to grab the desk to her right for support.

"I'd like that," Miranda murmured against the bite mark, as she slowly pushed Shepard in the direction of the bed, letting her go to ensure the stairs weren't going to be a hazard. Shepard turned around to face Miranda, grabbing hold of her hand to lead her the rest of the way, her eyes roaming across flesh that her hands wanted to touch. The back of Shepard's knees made contact with the edge of the bed, and she sat down, pulling Miranda with her. The rest of their clothes were shed before they moved farther up the bed, Miranda crawling up the length of Shepard's body, her eyes never breaking contact. Shepard's eyes roamed, catching the curve that led from Miranda's waist to her hips to the ass that she already loved grabbing. Her hair framed her face, and Shepard reached up to move it out of the way, holding it with one hand while her other skimmed down Miranda's bicep.

"You're incredible," Shepard whispered. Miranda flushed at the statement, her eyes giving up a hint of something that Shepard hadn't seen before. It closely resembled guilt.

"Shepard, I…"

"What's wrong?" Shepard asked when Miranda hesitated. Her brows furrowed in concern, she watched as Miranda struggled with something. She immediately started to feel the familiar pull of anxiety, and the feeling that she had done something wrong. She brushed strands of hair back behind Miranda's ear as she waited for her to continue.

"I'm scared of this. I don't want this to ever end, but it scares me. I like you more than I should admit, and if we do this, I can't…" Miranda hesitated again, her shoulders trembling slightly. Shepard moved, rolling Miranda onto her back and positioning herself on top, one leg settling between Miranda's thighs.

"Can't what, Miri?" Shepard asked quietly.

"I won't be able to stop myself from falling for you."

Shepard smiled at the admission, her anxiety melting away as she leaned down to kiss Miranda. She felt Miranda's leg move, sliding up her own as hands twined themselves in her hair.

"Is that a bad thing?" Shepard asked as she kissed the corner of Miranda's mouth, her jaw and down her neck. Miranda subconsciously moved her hips, both of them making subtle sounds as thighs met wet heat.

"I don't see how it could be," Miranda supplied, raking her nails along Shepard's shoulders. Their movements intensified, spurred on by the need that was quickly resurfacing. Shepard moved her hips to rest between Miranda's thighs as she gently bit her neck, moving one hand down the softness of Miranda's belly, and finally finding that which she had dreamed of touching. Miranda cried out at the contact, raising her legs around Shepard's waist. As she moved her fingers along the wet folds of Miranda's sex, her mouth traveled downwards, slowly licking and gently biting at Miranda's breasts. Her fingers found the source of the heat and plunged deep inside at the same time that she took a sensitive nipple into her mouth. Miranda arched her back into the dual touch, her head falling back to expose her throat.

"God, Cora… please don't stop…"

Shepard shivered at the use of her name, and trailed a line of kisses down Miranda's abdomen, hooking her fingers against the spot inside of her causing Miranda to gasp and move her hips into the touch, her hands running through Shepard's hair. Shepard slid her arm under Miranda's thigh, bringing her hand to rest in the soft curls at the apex of her hip bones. She looked up at Miranda and caught the piercing blue eyes almost pleading that this never end, the rise and fall of her breasts with every quick inhale, and the biting of her lip as words failed her. Shepard grinned, and lowered her head, her tongue reaching out to taste the heat that still enveloped her fingers. With slow, precise movements, her fingers found a rhythm as her mouth sucked and tugged at the delicate flesh. Miranda dug her nails into Shepard's forearm, her hips keeping pace with Shepard's fingers and tongue. Shepard felt the insistent tug of her own arousal with each of the sounds tumbling out of Miranda's mouth, the warmth in her belly spreading every time she cursed or dug her nails in deeper. Fingers twined in hers and she heard Miranda whisper, "I want a taste." Shepard's heart skipped a beat, and she was positive that there was no way Miranda could be any more appealing.

Shepard realized she was wrong approximately thirty seconds later. She inched her way up Miranda's body, and was met with a fierce kiss. Nails tore down her back, and legs were wrapped around her hips. Shepard felt dizzy with the overwhelming need for the woman underneath her, who used the distraction to her benefit by switching positions, pushing Shepard onto her back and straddling her hips. She moved as though she wanted to pick up where her mouth left off, but Shepard pressed a hand against her chest to keep her upright. At the same time, she slid her hand back to Miranda's sex, pushing her fingers deep inside. Miranda rocked her hips with a low moan, leaning back slightly, using her hands to rest her weight on Shepard's thighs. Shepard became aware of the fact that she could die right now and have no regrets, especially once she felt Miranda tighten around her fingers and heard her breath catch in her throat. Miranda's hand moved to touch as well, and Shepard felt the ripple of her own climax at the contact. Her pace increased as Miranda's did, both of them moving their hips in time with each other, Miranda crying out, making Shepard glad she had chosen her cabin since it was far away from anyone else. She caught Miranda's eyes, and realized she was waiting. Shepard knew how close she was, and didn't want Miranda to wait for anything, "Do it, Miri. Come for me," Shepard whispered, crooking her fingers forward one last time.

Miranda fell forward, catching herself with one hand as her lips slammed into Shepard's. Her orgasm ripped through her entire body, and Shepard felt the rhythmic tightening of her muscles as her own climax spilled over, forcing her to cry out against Miranda's lips. Miranda bit down hard on Shepard's shoulder as the waves of muscle contractions washed through her, and Shepard pulled at her hair, initiating another kiss. This time though it was slower, with both of them riding the aftershocks, neither one of them moving yet. Their tongues lazily danced together as the shudders subsided. Miranda rested her forehead against Shepard's and exhaled deeply while Shepard still tried to catch her breath. Miranda moved, laying herself down along Shepard's flank, running her hand along her stomach as she rested her head on her chest. She could hear Shepard's heart still racing, and she sighed loudly.

"Holy fuck," Shepard whispered into the now silent room. She stretched an arm out around Miranda's shoulders, the other one resting on top of the hand on her stomach.

"I don't know the last time I lost control like that," Miranda supplied after a moment, her voice hoarse. Shepard smiled at the comment, but remained quiet as she trailed her fingers along Miranda's shoulder. She felt a chill run up Miranda's spine and realized that without the pending climax, it was actually cool in her cabin. She moved to sit up, forcing Miranda up with her as she pulled the blankets down and climbed underneath. They were soon lying face to face, with Miranda running her finger along Shepard's lips, a small smile dancing on her own lips.

"What are you smiling about?"

"I just didn't expect you."

"Really? But you built me, right? You knew I was going to be a thing."

Miranda ignored the sarcasm and burrowed closer to Shepard, resting her arm along her waist and tucking her head under her chin. Shepard kissed the top of her head, inhaling the delicate scent as she closed her eyes.

"I didn't expect you and me, then," Miranda offered instead. Shepard could hear the sleep in her voice and felt her breathing slowing down, though her fingers continued tracing circles along her back. Shepard exhaled and hugged Miranda closer, thankful that she was finally able to. She felt a piece of her click into place and something in her heart changed. The feelings of hopelessness and despair were still there, but they were faded. New feelings were creeping in, slowly making their home in the once vacant spaces. She had been surprised that Miranda had given her so much of herself so quickly, though there was still a lot more hiding under the surface. The circles on her back had stopped, and she heard the steady, slow breathing of sleep. She placed another kiss on the top of Miranda's head and closed her eyes.


End file.
